No Peace in Gotham
by Enchanted Supernovae
Summary: The feeling of wanting to die isn't one of the best feelings to have. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. But there is nothing worse than living with a broken heart. Gotham is where it all started with me. And now I know that it will also be the end.
1. Chapter 1

**Here is the rewrite for No Peace in Gotham! Please Review! Special thanks to my new beta MeaganKatherine! **

**Summary: **If it's one thing I'm experienced in it is broken promises. He broke his promise. My whole life is one giant broken promise after another. I hated him. Wanted to hate him. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't. Life sucks. Especially now since not only was the love of my life gone, but I had to clean up Tina's stupid vase. I'd do it later. It was ugly as fucking hell anyway.

Chapter 1: Never Say Never

I couldn't be less perfect. But that's only half my problems anyway. The name's Gemmaline-Kenzie Felicity Dawes. Screwed up name? Yes I know. You won't be the first person to say that to my face or behind my back. But people call me Gemmzie. Combination of Gemma and Kenzie. Am I the only one who does see the stupidity behind that? It was one of those nicknames that just stuck with you your whole life created by others. I secretly hated it. Never had the guts to say I didn't. I'm determined to shorten it to just Gemma. Never Gemmzie. Never Gemmaline. Just Gemma. Unfortunately for me, supposedly in my grandmother's will on my father's side, she wanted the child born after she passed to be named after her because she missed her chance with the first. And since my father had no brothers or sisters, guess who that dutiful right when to? You guessed it! Me. So the combination of Gemma and Madeline had been created. What's with all the combinations of names?

When I was seven, I found out that I was adopted. I knew that there was something different between me and my family. For one, I'm not white. Not entirely. My biological father is. His name is Tom Greenwood. He lives in Hawaii with his wife Cecile. My birthmother died when she was giving birth to me. Her name was Mena Salado. Sheer perfection in my opinion. Bright greenish blue eyes, dark hair, perfect skin, and white teeth. She was everything I wanted to be.

My adoptive parents Tina and Alex Dawes found her when she was eight months pregnant over in Portugal when they were on vacation. They brought her back to the U.S. to give birth. Sounds suspicious to me. But when she died, there was no one left to care for me. No father around. No family. So they adopted me as their own child. Of course it did look strange pushing around a caramel skin baby when you were lily white. But adoptions are all the rage right? It's the new Hollywood sensation. As I got older, I noticed the differences more and more. It didn't help that my classmates were making fun of me. They all seemed to know I was 'different' except for me. Because of it, I could never really fit in. They called me Adopted. And I still felt adopted when Tom found me. At Gotham International Airport four years ago. We had taken a trip to Disney Land for my birthday. When we got back that Tuesday, Tom spotted me. In a sea of people, I was the only one that stood out to him. I had the same eyes as her.

_I plopped down next to Rachel on our shared suitcase in the airport. Things were busy since it was close to the holiday weekend. My birthday was two days ago. I am now officially seven. Even though I can't pronounce the letters S, T and H because my two front teeth have been gone, since last month. I couldn't take the pain anymore so I twisted my teeth around until they fell out. We went to Disney Land yesterday and on my birthday. All day and night. I saw the light parade. The fireworks were my favorite part. But today we were going back to Gotham. How fun. That meant going back to school. I hated school. Besides Rachel, I only had three friends; Holly Jo Upshaw, who only went by Holly J. as of Kindergarten, Rachel's best friends Crystal Andersen and Bruce Wayne. Yes, the Bruce Wayne. I have the biggest crush on him. He never really pays attention to me like he does Rachel. _

_Mommy is a landscaper, so she designed Wayne Manor's glamorous yards. That's how they met. Crystal was Rachel's other best friend. She has this golden blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Like one of my Barbie dolls. Holly J. was my only friend my age. We were both kind of weird in terms of the other kids, according to them anyway. I was known as the adopted kid, she was loud, I was a girl who played Pac Man and liked to look at worms, she was always making someone cringe with her constant popping knuckle thing. I felt like I had nothing to hide with Holly J. And she knew all of my secrets so I had to keep her as a friend. She knew I was crazy about Bruce Wayne._

_Rachel tapped me on my shoulder. She pulled out a string and tied the ends together. I watched her make the start of cats cradle with the rainbow colored string. I hated that game. _

"_Want to play cats cradle?" she held out the cradle to me. I pinched my fingers at the X's, taking them over the line and then under then through the small space. We never made it that far because I always messed it up. Rachel took the string to fast trapping my thumb between the knots._

"_Gemm you messed it up again!" she raised her voice. I hated it when she raised her voice at me. It made me feel insignificant to her. She was this perfect being I wanted to be just like. Rachel was pretty, had tons of friends, class president and had good grades. She won the city spelling bee. Her medal was framed hanging on the wall in her room. Nagging me every time I went in there. _

"_Excuse me for getting my finger caught." I started untying the simple knot. Rachel slapped my hands away and said, "I'll do it." I rolled my eyes. She made me feel like I couldn't do anything on my own. And this time it was a knot! My thumb was set free from her stupid cats cradle. If she knew I messed it up, why ask me to play? I saw mommy across the way carrying a white paper bag. She placed the bag in my lap. The warmth made me excited about what was inside. Rachel poked her nose inside. She came back up for air and frowned. _

"_What?" mommy made the mom face when they know they're going to be annoyed. If there is a face for that. _

"_We wanted the cookie." Rachel was determined to be a lawyer. I wanted to work at the zoo. Orangutans were my favorite animal. Some might say 'those are the ugliest animals', but to me they're amazing. It didn't matter to me what they looked like. I felt sorry for the orange beasts. It was kind of like how I felt. People didn't really see me the way I wanted them too. Always behind Rachel. The adopted kid. They were lying. I wasn't adopted…was I? Families always look different. Do they always look this different? _

"_They didn't have any more cookies. Is popcorn good enough?" mommy put her hands on her hips. _

"_Did you get butter?" Rachel countered. Rach shut-up and take the popcorn. _

"_It's not healthy for you as it is. You don't need butter." _

"_But mom!" _

"_Rachel LeAnn don't you use that tone with me. Do you want me to embarrass you in front of everyone?" _

"_No ma'm." she pouted. I reached into the bag and took out a handful of the fluffy popcorn. I stuffed some in my mouth. _

"_Don't eat it all." Rachel snatched the bag from me. _

"_Give it back I wasn't done!" I shouted. I grabbed the bag pulling it towards me. _

"_It's my turn! I'm older!" she pulled it back with such force, I could hear the bag rip a bit. I stood up from the suitcase. So did she. _

"_Give it back Rachel!" she held it up high. I couldn't reach. I jumped like a frog. _

"_Ooh so close!" she laughed. _

"_Shut-up Rachie! Stop it!" I jumped up again taking the bag from her. "Ha ha ha." I stuck my tongue out at her. I poured a little in my hand. _

"_You're so immature Gemmaline." She stole about half. _

"_I'm not the one stealing food from a seven year old. And don't call me Gemmaline. Rachelynn." _

"_Oh whatever Gemmdrop." We had made up nicknames for each other. She was Rachelynn and I was Gemmdrop. It was an accident at first, but then we just started calling each other that. It was something I shared with her that nobody else did. It made me feel special. I unzipped one of the pockets on the suitcase. I took out a rolled up Archie comic book. I think I'm more of a Betty than a Veronica. I started reading the latest dilemma Archie and his friends were in when Rachel tapped me on my shoulder. _

"_What? Can't you see I'm busy?" I put the book in my lap frustrated. She knew not to interrupt me when I was reading my Archie comics. _

"_That guy is staring at you." she whispered. I forced me head up to observe the crowd. _

"_What guy? I don't see a guy." _

"_God. You're blind as a bat. The one over there." Rachel pointed in his supposed direction. I followed her gaze. Who was she talking about? _

"_I still don't see." Rachel grabbed my head and turned it in the direction. I spotted a light colored man with short blonde hair staring at me. I gave him a weird look back. He was wearing a black leather jacket with a gray t-shirt underneath and jeans. He had one of those weird looks on his face that screamed 'how can it be?' or something like that. Alex came up next to us with the bag he and mom couldn't fit in the thingy on the ceiling in the airplane. _

"_Girls, Alfred might be late. So make yourself comfortable." He said. Alfred, the Wayne's butler, was picking us up. He had insisted. Alfred was old and British. He told the best stories. When Rachel and I would stay over at Bruce's house, he made us hot chocolate and he always told me a story when I couldn't sleep. Alfred was the best. _

"_What happened?" mommy covered her heart with her gentle hands. _

"_The news said there was traffic on the freeway. A truck flipped over." Daddy ruffled my hair a bit. Didn't that only happen to boys? I'm not a boy. _

"_Hey where'd he go?" Rachel craned her neck all about. _

"_Where did who go dear?" mommy touched Rachel's shoulder. Her voice sounded wary as always. _

"_This guy that was looking at me." I said. I chewed on my fingernail. I watched mommy's face tense up. Her gold eyes bleed with intensity of fear. Rachel had that same look when she got scared or worried. I didn't look like that. It was an entirely different face. _

"_Oh there he is." Rachel pointed to the man. He was standing there with his mouth wide open. It was kind of like a dog. Whenever a dog opened its mouth it looked cute. The guy didn't look cute but you get my point. When I opened my mouth it looked like I was retarded. Don't tell mommy I said the R word. It's a bad word I'm not supposed to say. I waved with a smile. Alex put my hand down with force. _

"_Don't do that Gemma. Let's go." He started walking away carrying the bags. What was wrong? Mommy picked me up so fast I dropped my comic book. _

"_Mommy wait!" I touched her face with my hand. _

"_What is it Gemma?" she sighed. I pointed to the ground. Rachel picked it up and handed it to me. _

"_Thanks Rachie." _

"_Okay so now we're all good. Let's go." Tina said. When she turned around, I heard her gasp. Rachel quickly moved to her side. _

"_What do you want?" I tilted my head to see Rachel standing in front of Tina with her hands on her hips. _

"_She looks so much like her." I turned my head into the crook of Tina's neck. _

"_Like who?" Yeah like who? _

"_Mena. Mena Salado." The man said. I felt her breaths stop and then continue. I lifted my head to have a better look of the man. His light blue eyes got wider than they already had been when he saw me for a second time. _

"_Who's Mena Salado?" I asked. Nobody answered me. Her name sounded like a movie star or someone from one of those James Bond movies that daddy always watched. I saw daddy's face look sad. Why was he sad? Did he know Mena Salado? Why did her last name sound like salad? I don't like salads. _

"_Who are you? How do you know about Mena?" daddy asked. _

"_We were friends for a short time. I could never forget her face. She has the same eyes. She looks like her. She looks like me." The man said. The wrinkles on his face set into a frown and then a smile. How can I look like someone I don't know? I look like mommy and daddy…right? In school we learned about the features of humans. Like different eye colors and hair color. Mommy's eyes are gold. Daddy's eyes are like a light green. Rachel's are light green with specks of golden brown. Mine are bright greenish blue. I think more green. They have a weird shape like ovals or almonds and they're big. Is that normal? _

"_Are you…?" Tina's voice was cracked like she was going to cry. I held her head in my small hands. _

"_Don't cry mommy." I kissed her cheek. _

"_Can I meet her?" the man asked. Mommy gave daddy that look she gave him when he stayed to long in the den, or as he called it 'THE MAN CAVE'. All capital letters in a plaque on the door that looked like a license plate. That didn't stop mommy from not cooking for four. Sometimes daddy had to make his own dinner. I helped. I've learned that I should never set foot in a kitchen. Mommy put me on the ground facing the man. He squatted down to my level. He did kind of look like me. _

"_Hi I'm Tom Greenwood." He smiled. Tom's teeth were bright white like on those toothpaste commercials. I buried my head into mommy's legs. _

"_It's okay sweetie. Tell him your name." she said. I rested my chin on her knee. _

"_What if he doesn't like me?" I bit my lip with nervousness. What if he was like the kids at school? They weren't the nicest of people to me. Mommy smoothed my hair back. _

"_Can you try?" I nodded. She turned me around to face Tom. _

"_I'm Gemma Dawes." I held out my hand to him. He shook it. _

"_Gemma? That is very pretty." _

"_It's short for something I don't like. Mommy gave me the name I don't like because of grandma. I never knew grandma so it shouldn't count." _

"_Gemma." Mommy said in her warning voice. _

"_It's not like you liked her anyway right?" I heard her sigh. _

"_Where are you from Gemma?" Tom reached his hand behind my ear. _

"_Goam." I answered. Darn the tooth fairy for not giving me my grownup teeth yet. Don't tell her I said the D word either._

"_What?" _

"_She lost her two front teeth. Can't say T's and H's yet. We're from here." Daddy said. _

"_Oh! So you're from Gotham." His face lit up like a light. I nodded. Weird. He had the same cheeks like me. _

"_Where are you from?" I asked. His hand left my ear and came out with a white circular stone. I loved magic tricks. _

"_I'm from Hawaii." Tom handed me the stone that turned out to be a sand dollar._

"_Can I keep it?" mommy wouldn't let me keep things I found on the beach. Safety hazards and such. _

"_Sure. I have a lot more back home." he smiled at me. I watched him stand up. He was so tall. _

"_Do you want…a test done?" daddy asked. What kind of tests? I hated tests at school. _

"_If it's okay with you. I want to be in her life." Tom said. _

"_What's going on?" I looked up from my sand dollar at them. _

"_Nothing sweetheart. Rachel, go take your sister and sit down." Mommy ordered. Rachel took my hand in hers. She led me to the seating area next to a giant window view of an airplane. _

"_What do you think they're talking about?" I asked Rachel. _

"_Who knows. Hey! What if Tom was like some distant relative." _

"_Yeah right."_

From that day forward I was never really the same. I looked at the world different. At myself different. My life changed forever. Tom has an older son named Tom Jr. We are five years apart. We called him T.J. He immediately took up that big brother role. Tom has another kid too. Her name is Tessa. We're the same age. Cecile treated me and Rachel like we were her own. I called her Cece. Every year we visit them in Hawaii. I learned how to surf like Tess and T.J. Something Rachel couldn't do. I was a natural. After I found out about my birth mom, in my mind I referred to mommy as Tina. I still called Alex dad in front of him but in my mind he was Alex. I called Tom, Tom. Just so it wasn't confusing if I called for one of them. I had a biological family. People that I can relate to.

Not to long after that, they checked back at the hospital for anything about Mena. Mom. She has a family over in Portugal. Two summers ago, we went there after a long string of letters back and forth. Grandma Emilia was so excited to see me. She lived with grandpa on this huge cliff in one of the white brick houses on the top of the hill. I had a family. A real family. That looked like me. And loved me. Connected by blood. That didn't love me only because they felt as if it were their duty to do so; they loved me because they wanted to.

I stared out into the ocean. The sand was warm beneath my feet. I buried them further into the sand. Surf practice had ended early because the waves were dying down. I heard the faint laughter of my other teammates down the way. I never associated myself with them due to their lack of liking toward me. Most people were nice to my face…some of the time. But these people—if you want to call them that—were rude directly.

Rachel was the star. Of course. But out here on the beach, I was. That's how it usually was at Gotham Middle School. If it sounds public, it isn't. Well technically it was, but it was changed to a private school about sixty years ago because of the rich people in the city and something about making money. Bottom line was I hated that school. But Tina and Alex insisted because it was a better education. They were breaking their backs to pay for it. With two kids, Alex had to pick up a second job working at Wal-greens. He worked the graveyard shift sometimes. Tina always stayed up when he had to work the graveyard. Rachel and I stayed up with her when we could.

"Gemmzie." I heard my name being called. I peered up at coach Dan. He was an average old man I guess in his late forties with this curly hair that would make the newest perm blush. He was wearing these bright red swim trunks. Like David Hasselhoff from that show Baywatch Alex always watched.

"What is it coach?" I asked. I knew what he was going to say. 'Why don't you play with the other kids?' he'd say. This happened more than once before. It was expected from him now.

"Don't you get lonely over here by yourself? Practice is over. It's okay if you play with the other kids." See. What did I tell you?

"I'm fine over here sir." I patted the sand next to me with a fake smile. I wanted to be left alone. When I wasn't with Holly J., I was by myself most of the time. At school, I was either in the computer lab at lunch or a teacher's classroom or mindlessly walking around the empty hallways. Rachel didn't make an effort because she thought I was with my own friends I guess. When I couldn't find a seat in the computer lab, I went to the library. Sat at one of the desks in the corner. Yes that sounds very depressing and I seem unsociable. But I just didn't fit in with these types of people. I couldn't find a place where I really fit in. The one thing that scared me the most was after summer vacation when we all went back to school, there would be someone in one of my classes that didn't like me or I would be all alone and everyone would know.

"Well I say you be more involved. Try making friends." He said. I surveyed the other kids down the way playing with flat volleyballs and sticks. These were the next elite of Gotham? Don't think so. "Honestly sir, it doesn't look very appetizing. I'd feel more comfortable over here."

"Well I have to see who is going to be in the competition next month. So you have to go." He folded his arms across his chest. I sighed rolling my eyes. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? It was depressing enough having to watch the others I've known since third grade separate from me. I picked myself off the ground. I could tell that this was going to go bad. It always did. I could never understand why they didn't like me. It never made any sense whatsoever. It wasn't like my braces weren't coming off. What was their problem? Am I not likeable? Or is it because I'm not Rachel? I approached them with a blank expression upon my face.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't brace face." Sheila laughed. And cue the braces jokes. Sheila Ramsey was one of those girls you couldn't stand. Hated her to pieces, but wanted to be just like her. Have her cool hair and her clothes. She was one of the trust funds. Her parents were filthy rich. They didn't share with the rest of the city. I knew Sheila from the parties and fundraisers that Bruce always invited us to. Not that he gave me two seconds of his time. Alfred let him bring us as his guests. I ignored her rude comment.

"Are you deaf? I'm talking to you. Oh, I forgot; there's always something wrong with adopted kids. Crazy and all." Sheila giggled with her friends. Her bright blue eyes were sparklers of evil. Evil bitch.

"I want to see things from your point of view, but I can't get my head that far up my ass." I had actually cursed. I never cursed. It was bad. I'm starting not to care anymore.

"Excuse me?" she did that 'oh no you didn't' tone in her voice.

"Don't you know the train is that way?" Cole Hunter pointed down the beach. God he was gorgeous. All the girls adored him. I didn't like him though. That doesn't mean I can't look at him.

"Your not welcome here foreigner." Sheila stood up from the perch of drift wood she was resting her butt on.

"Be careful Sheil. Stand up too fast and you might lose another brain cell." I said boldly. She dropped her mouth in awe. I don't know what she thought I was thinking because I dropped my mouth in awe too. I hardly stood up for myself. She slowly walked over to me. Her body demeaning me with every step in the sand. She stood a foot taller than me staring me down.

"You want to repeat that foreigner?" her blue eyes reached the level of my green. I said nothing. To scared to find out her response and my suffering from her assault with words.

"Is the baby too choked up to talk?" she cooed. I felt the back of my eyes start to prick with pain. I looked everywhere but her face. She leaned down next to my ear.

"No one wants you around. The only reason people put up with you, is because your Rachel's sister. And the only reason people put up with her, is because she's Bruce's friend." Shelia pulled away from me with a taunting smile.

"Your not going to cry are you?" I tried to stop my lip from quivering. How could anyone be this mean? I hadn't done anything to anyone of these people. It didn't make sense for people to act like this. I sniffed my nose. Was she telling the truth? I did feel the pain of being socially awkward around people. Maybe I did only have a free pass because Rachel was my sister. I turned around and walked away from her. What was the use? She was only going to keep antagonizing me. There was no point.

"That's right pound puppy. Walk away. Just like your no good immigrant mother." Sheila yelled. I locked every bone in my body. She didn't know a thing about my mother. Neither did I. Only from what I was told. I stormed back around to face Sheila. Pulled her hair with all my strength. Surprisingly, she fell to the grown. I straddled her back and pushed her head into the sand.

"Say something else about my mother again and you'll see just how crazy I can get."

I pushed her plastic face further into the sand. Since when would I say something like that? I have no idea what came over me. The power and adrenaline was amazing…I had to do this more often. I got off of her with disdain. I walked calmly back over to the other side of the beach. A surge of power had taken over me. I don't know what happened. I just…snapped. Pushed to the very limits I never wanted to reach. In a way, it was terrifyingly scary, that loss of control. Mom wouldn't act like that. What if I couldn't go back? Lost in rage and anger forever. But what was I mad at? Mom? Rachel? Tom? Tina? Alex? In their own way, they'd abandoned me.

That's a lot to be angry about. But I don't like being angry for the fear of losing myself. I knew I would. I could never go back. It wasn't normal for someone so young to feel this way, it can't be. I wasn't normal. Rachel was normal. She was always normal. Always has been normal. What was normal? Sane, loved, adored...not me? Maybe normal is normal and me is me. Whatever that means. I picked up my purple flowered surfboard from the sand. My sandals with the turtles on them filled with sand as I hiked up the hill to Tina's minivan. I opened the back throwing my board in. I don't know why I threw it in there like that. I slammed the trunk shut with my small hands. I climbed into the back seat and started to take off my rash-guard. Tina pulled away from the curb with a sigh. She always sighed. Maybe it was some condition.

"How was practice?" she turned around looking at me with a small smile.

"Usual. Why do you ask?" she never asked about practice. Tina wasn't into surfing. Thought it was dangerous. Everything is dangerous. Walking out the house is dangerous, eating is dangerous, brushing your teeth is dangerous. I once got a cramp in my finger from tying my shoe laces.

"I ask because Dan said something about you not mingling with the other kids." I pulled on my pink cheetah print bathing suit. I was supposed to meet up with Rachel at Crystal's hours for her pool party. It was in the suburbs. The only place in the city considered 'safe'. If one considers Gotham safe.

"Mom it's nothing." I really wanted to change the subject. My lack of friends was starting to affect her in that motherly concerning way.

"I'm only being concerned Gemmaline. No need to get hasty." Her voice was rising. Not a good sign.

"They talk about her." After that she didn't try to strike up a conversation anymore. The whole ride was silent. I think she knew my secret. That I didn't think of her as my actual mom anymore. We avoided the discussion of her. There wasn't much to begin with anyways. I took off the metal brace around my face. It'd be good to not have that on for a while. I passed time by looking out widow. Tina stopped in front of Crystal's house. The orange and pink balloons hung off the front porch swinging in the wind.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Have fun." Tina unlocked the door.

"Okay." I opened the door and hopped out. I don't know why I was invited to the party. Everyone was older than me. At least two or three years. I rang the doorbell. My nerves were getting the best of me. Crystal's mom Elle opened the door.

"Oh! Hello Gemma dear!" she was so enthusiastic. Like one of those moms that was more of a friend and bought everything for her kids. She had the same blonde hair like Crystal, same eyes, a white sweater around her neck.

"Hi Mrs. Andersen." I said.

"Gemma call me Elle."

"Okay…Elle."

"Come on in, everyone is out in the back." She ushered me inside. I wished my house looked like this. The living room was so clean and big. The furniture was cream colored. Not like the ugly flower couches and chairs with matching carpeting like at home. Even the carpet smelled good with that clean scent. I saw the screen doors in the back near the kitchen. People were running around and water was splashing everywhere. I slowly walked down the way to the back. As I got closer, my breathing picked up. This was not the best time to have an asthma attack. I opened the screen door. With my luck something would go wrong. The air hit me in the face. I walked further into the crowed looking for Rachel.

"Gemma!" I spotted her with Crystal and some other girls. I waved back. I started to cross the cold grass. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head. Dizziness overpowered me. When did black look so lovely?

**Bruce**

I laughed at the joke my best friend Sam Macpherson told. I wasn't really paying attention though. Too busy looking at Rachel. I think my friends noticed it also. Did she even notice how I felt about her?

"Hey Bruce, why don't you talk to your girlfriend." Jake Raze said when he elbowed me in the side. I blushed. Guys don't blush.

"She's not my girlfriend. We're just friends." I looked back over at Rachel. She was standing with Crystal and a small group of girls. Her body filled out her black bikini in the most alluring of ways. The way to hugged her curves…

"Ahh, the just friends rule." Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Oh shut-up! Like you know anything." I pushed his shoulder. The tapping of a smooth finger against my back interrupted. I turned around with Rachel wearing a frown on her face.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Have you seen Gemma? I saw her, but now I can't find her." Her lips looked so soft. What were they like to touch with my own? If she only knew what she did to me.

"No I haven't seen her. I didn't know she was here." I scanned the yard looking for her familiar head. My eyes happen to observe the large pool. I saw a head of dark hair gently sinking to the bottom of the pool. It couldn't be. Could it. The feeling of losing her swept through my body like a storm. Without even thinking, I took off from across the grass to the pool. How could no one see her? Why couldn't I see her? I dived into the pool with a one track mind. I grabbed her by her arms, pulling her small frame against mine. I reached the surface of the water in record time. I lifted her body onto the concrete by the edge of the pool. Everyone was crowding around us. She looked like a rag doll. I leaned down and pressed my ear to her chest. Then I checked her wrist for a pulse. I felt none. Was I too late? For an unexplainable reason, my eyes quickly grew wide. My chest felt like it was closing. My hands shaking uncontrollable. I placed my hands on her chest and began CPR. One, two, three. I pressed my lips to hers. One, two, three, breathe.

"Oh my god! Is she okay?" Crystal's voice egged on in my ear. Her hair skimmed my shoulder. I pushed her back.

"I'll go get my mom." Yeah you could have done that five minutes ago.

"Come on Gemma. Don't do this to me." I whispered. Why hadn't I taken the time to know her? What did I know about her other than she was Rachel's sister? Nothing. This couldn't happen to me. Not when I had missed out on so much. How could I not notice her until this? I couldn't lose another person I loved. Love? I didn't even know her. Love. Did I? Could I? With her. No. It wasn't right. Love. What was I thinking?

"Bruce, give up." I heard someone say.

"Shut-up!" I yelled. I pounded on her chest one more time before I breathed into her mouth. She didn't respond. I slumped back on my knees. She was gone. I picked up her head in my arms and just stared at her face. I pushed some of her hair back. To be so young…she was beautiful. Was it wrong to be somewhat attracted to her? My eyes fell in love with her closed ones. I would never be able to see those emeralds of hers again. She would never look at me with such affection. The affection I turned away. I trailed my eyes from hers to her neck. I would never hear her voice again. Her voice would never say my name. Her laughs.

I had almost lost hope; her body lightly trembled. Her throat moved a bit. I heard her take in a soft breath. She gasped for air and turned her head to the side. The water escaped her mouth like a waterfall. I embraced her delicate cheek into my hands. She slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was me. They all crowded around more when they realized she was alive.

"Get back!" I ordered just to have this moment with her. Her eyes never left mine.

"Oh Gemma!" Rachel pushed me away from her. I reluctantly let her go. I watched them hug to no end.

"What the_ hell_ is going on here?" Elle's boisterous voice said. No one answered. The only sound I heard was her breathing. And I was determined to never let it falter.

**Five years later**

**Gemma**

I fixed my _'Thriller'_ Michael Jackson t-shirt to hang off my shoulder again. It was a gift from Bruce. He had gotten it for me directly from the King of Pop himself. I was completely floored. It meant so much to me. I wonder if Bruce knew how much. I looked across the room in our A.P Calculus class. I was really good at math; I got an A+ the whole year. Rachel got a C. Who's Miss Perfect now? Still not me. Rachel was still the apple of everyone's eye. She was already an adult. Eighteen going on nineteen. I wasn't even sixteen yet. In a couple months. I observed Bruce sitting at his stool leaning on the desk trying to keep up. I have no idea how he landed this class. Maybe it's because he's Bruce Wayne. The only reason why he was barley getting a C was because I was doing his homework for him. The feelings I felt for him were so strong I couldn't put them into words. Sometimes I thought he felt the same way. The little things he would do. When I told him about a cute guy, he got jealous no matter how hard he said he wasn't. He was protective of me, he listened when I was upset; the way he couldn't control his emotions. He told me everything he was feeling. Things he couldn't share with just anyone. I was bound to secrecy. Almost every love and relationship article I read in the magazines said he liked me. Possibly loved.

He couldn't love me right? I mean…we're just friends. Friends can't be more; it'd ruin the relationship formed already. I was forever enchanted by the way his sleek hair curved at the start of his neck. And the contours of the muscles in his back. They hugged to his tight black sweater. And then…there was Rachel sitting next to him. They were both trying to keep their laughing silent. I wished I was sitting over there; with the popular folk. The seniors and some lucky juniors. The way he looked at her was never the same way he looked at me. Who was I kidding? Bruce Wayne wasn't in love with me; he was in love with my better sister. The whole school practically knew they were bound to end up together whether they denied it or not. I let out a sigh and leaned on the desk. After knowing the man my whole life, one would think I'd be living a Bruce Wayne-filled life. Instead, I was living a Bruce Wayne-less life. In the department I was looking in anyway. Bruce, why can't you know that I'm madly in love with you?

"Miss Dawes?" I was drawn out of my trance by my teacher's voice. I sat up. Everyone was looking at me. And not for the good reasons I wanted them to.

"Yes Mr. Keen?" some people snickered. I looked at the faces of my abusers. Mr. Keen was a nice guy when you did the homework. He's the punch line of everyone's jokes because he kind of resembles a beaver. But overall he was a good teacher. Except when he embarrasses you in front of everyone. Like right now.

"Oh my god." I heard Katie Solomon say. She's Sheila's best friend. Bitch.

"Have you been listening? I've been asking you to come to the problem on the board." Mr. Keen pointed to the board.

"Oh sure." I said brightly. I stood from my stool smoothing down my short little skirt. I approached the board. I could literally feel their eyes burning into my skin. And then I heard Rachel laugh. What was so funny? I pretended to scratch my back checking to see if there was a 'kick me' sign. Nothing. Okay back to the problem. I started writing on the board.

"Gemma can you—" Mr. Keen began. He was interrupted by the phone. He picked it up and stepped outside.

"If I ever look like that, someone please shoot me." Sam joked. Of course everyone laughed. Out of all the boys to date, Sam Macpherson is my boyfriend. Of a little over three months now. How I got Sam was a dream within its own. He was three years older than I was, so technically I was dating an adult because he was turning eighteen next week. I don't know what he saw in me. And if he did see something, why didn't Bruce see the same thing? They weren't even friends anymore. Since Sam asked me out. I could tell Bruce disapproved of us being together. Whenever I said something about Sam, Bruce got so angry he scared me. Sometimes I would wish he got angry from being in love with me. That was never the case.

"Sam that wasn't very nice." I said. Sam had changed since when we were kids. He had gone from cute to this god. He had these amazing pure dark green eyes I was head over heels for. And his hair was a sandy blonde and kind of shaggy. His face was chiseled to perfection and he had these amazing abs. Is it wrong to imagine that it was Bruce I was kissing? That's a dumb question, of course it's wrong. But even in my imagination, with Bruce it felt…right. Like we were meant to be. Could we be…? No. No, no, no, no, no that was a funny joke. I have to get those thoughts out of my head. As cheesy as it sounds what about true love? What if you were with someone but in love with another? Then is it different? What am I talking about; this is crazy talk. Me and Bruce? Yeah right. When hell freezes over twice. I felt Sam wrap his strong arms around me. He pressed his lips on my bare shoulder.

"Baby what do I have to do to make you laugh? Oh I know; you always liked my dirty jokes."

"No I don't. Your jokes are lame and disgusting."

"Bruise my ego why don't cha'." He pushed himself into me. His hands feeling me up. From behind us, I heard someone clear their throat a few too many times. I turned around and saw Bruce staring directly at me. I held his gaze. Without words it still was like we were saying so much. His chocolate brown eyes examined my body in such a way it gave me chills Sam couldn't make me feel. If that's with his eyes what could he do with his fingers? Sam grabbed my head between his hands and turned me back to the board.

"You look this way okay sweetie." He said in my ear. Yeah I should be concentrating on the problem. Not staring off into those hypnotizing eyes of his.

"Wayne do you get off on watching me and my girl?" Sam pulled me closer to him.

"Stop it Sam." I warned. When was Mr. Keen coming back?

"No I jack off watching your mom bleach her mustache." Bruce said. Why couldn't we all just get along?

"I'll squeal about what you really jack off to." Sam fired back.

"Guys can we not do this right now." I put the chalk on the board and pushed Sam away from me. Was there something I missed?

**Bruce**

Sam made me sick to stomach. He had his hands all over her. I was the one…no. Felly and I weren't meant for each other. I only had eyes for one woman and her name was Rachel. I loved her. And for someone like me to fall in love was rare. I tried everything to get her to take an interest in me. For some reason she couldn't see how I felt. But I think she knew. She wouldn't deny anything. When Gemma looked into my eyes I felt like I was on fire. I let out a growl. That asshole Sam had his hands all over my Gemma. How could she allow that? He showed her off like his property. If she were with me she'd be treated like the lady she is. They way he touched her hips possessively. I would touch them like they're too delicate to touch. She'd be a doll under me. He didn't appreciate how beautiful she was. The way her legs were long but still curvy, her waist was toned from her athleticism and her breasts weren't too big but not small either. Gemma was always talking about how she hated her body, mainly her thighs. Personally I loved her thighs. I would watch her at surfing practice and just want to ravish them. Sometimes I think of her blowing me.

She'd look at me with those seductive eyes and push me on my back. She'd settle her tight pussy over me. I'd keep her steady with my hands as she slammed down hard. Riding me like a pro. I would watch her touch herself. Sometimes I daydream about what I would do to her. First I would take her out to the best restaurant in Gotham. Order the most expensive champagne and listen to the piano play in the background. When we'd leave, I'd take her to her favorite restaurant, which was Tony's Diner down on Branch Avenue. It was a restaurant on one level where the stairs led to the roller disco. She loved roller skating. We'd drive back to the mansion and I'd carry her to my bedroom. I'll sit her on the bed and reach up her short lavender sundress. I pull down her panties gently from her. I take off her dress and throw it across the room. Trail kisses from her toes to the inside of those thighs…and then higher. I would drown myself in her sweetness. Lick her until she couldn't take it anymore. She'd come so hard she wouldn't be able to form sentences. Then I would make love to her the whole night. Show her what a real man could do. You know…if I was Sam. That's what I'd do if I was _Sam_…

"Mr. Wayne." I raised my eyes at Mr. Keen.

"Yes?" I asked trying to control my breath from my thoughts about Felly. It was wrong to think about her in that way. Her brother T.J. and I were best friends. How would he feel if his friend was thinking like that about his fifteen year old sister? I don't know why I imagine her like that. I could just take one look at her and get turned on. It didn't make sense. How can I be attracted to a fifteen year old? And even before then. When she was fourteen and thirteen and twelve; I'd have thoughts about waking up next to her in my bed naked. I sounded like one of those child molesters. I felt dirty having explicit sexual feelings for her. She was an innocent child. But it also felt…right. What am I talking about? There was no way I would think about her like that again. It was wrong.

"What is up with you guys today? Is anyone paying attention at all?" Mr. Keen went on about squares or whatever. I saw Felly and that asshole share a look between them. Why did she like Sam anyway? With every girl he dated, he got her into his bed and ripped her heart out. He was a player. She didn't need someone like him. She needed someone like me.

_I followed behind Sam and the rest of the varsity football team into the locker room. Sweat was dripping off my forehead from practice. I walked to my locker next to the showers. "We could win on Friday with that play. You were on fire." Sam patted me on my back. I was the star quarterback on the team. Sam was the running-back. We were like a triple threat together. _

"_Thanks man. Coach didn't have to go so hard on me though." _

"_Weren't you trying to get Josie Cruz's digits?" _

"_Yeah. It's not like she doesn't want me anyway." _

"_Well look at you Mr. Player. You've learned from the best." Sam slapped my chest. I rolled on some deodorant underneath my arms. Man was I hungry. _

"_Hey, are you going to Tony's with us?" I asked. Tony Montoya owned the old roller diner on Sixth Avenue. Hopefully I would see Gemma there. She took up a job waitressing after surf practice. The outfit consisted of a tight white shirt, black hot-pants and roller skates. The main reason why all the guys went there. And they made the best pizza in Gotham. _

"…_Umm…naw, I'll pass. I already made plans." Sam didn't look at me when he said this. What was going on with him? Since when did he not want to make some sexual comment to his favorite waitress Camilla? I couldn't really stop him because from flirting with other girls right in front of Gemma. He wouldn't listen to me anyway. And it was guy code. _

"_Since when do you already make plans? I've known you since kindergarten and not once did you ever plan anything." I told him. I pulled my shirt over my head, ready to put on a clean one. _

"_I asked out this girl. Well she's not just any girl. We know her. Kind of want your opinion." When did Samuel Edward Macpherson need my advice on girls? _

"_Okay." _

"_I asked Gemmz out on a date last week. And she said yes." I stopped getting dressed in my regular clothes. I tried to play it off, but on the inside I was raving in anger. What the hell? Since when did Sam like Gemma? Even start to have an interest in her? When T.J. wasn't around, I was the one protecting her. What right did he have over Gemma? My Gemma. I mean…she wasn't really my Gemma. She's my friend. If she's my friend, why do I feel so protective of her? What were the dreams that I've been having about her? The feelings that I had? Being attracted to her so bad by the thoughts I had. Dirty thoughts. Wondering what she looked like naked. What did it all mean? _

"_Umm…why would you do that?" I asked. _

"_Because she's hot. I mean she's gone from metal mouth to Playboy in like what, a summer? I'm not the only guy looking at her new assets." He laughed. Is that all there was about her he liked? He was going to hurt her I knew it. I wasn't going to allow that. _

"_Is that all you think about her? You're not right for her! You're going to break her heart like all of the other girls!" _

"_And how would you know that?" Sam was getting defensive. _

"_She's not your type! Leave her alone. If you want a conquest, go find it somewhere else. I'm not going to let you hurt her." I tried to say it more of a matter of fact, but it came out more personal. Maybe I wanted it to be personal. _

"_That's real funny Bruce. You act like you want her for yourself!" he joked. Did I want her for myself? I didn't answer. _

"_No fucking way! Rachel's baby sister? Little Gemm? Bruce you can't be serious?" I grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him against the lockers. _

"_You touch her and I swear to god I'll make you pay for it." Sam grabbed my arms and pushed me. _

"_Really? And what are you going to do? Drown me in your wet dreams?" I did something I thought I would never do to Sam. I punched him in the face. What had come over me? I was fighting for Gemma. Rachel was the one I wanted… Was I sure…? Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck you man!" I could hear the rest of the team gather around our small area. The looks on their faces when they saw the fearsome duo get into a fight. Devin was borderline passed out, Greg's face was so shocked he could start a fire, Bobby couldn't stop laughing…well he's a dumbass and like that 24/7 and everyone else was silent with wide eyes watching their championship dreams slip through their hands. I grabbed Sam by the neck pulling him into a headlock. He tackled me to the ground. I turned him on his back and began to punch him in the face. _

"_Break it up! Break it up!" Coach Rogers grabbed me my shoulders and pulled me off of Sam. I wanted to go at him again, but Jake Raze held me back. And I had no choice since he was a linebacker and three times my size. Coach lightly pushed Sam. _

"_WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO? THE WEEK BEFORE THE GAME THAT CAN GET US INTO THE PLAYOFFS AND YOU TWO IDOITS DECIDE TO HAVE IT OUT? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MINDS? EIGHTEEN YEARS YOU COULD HAVE DONE THIS!" Coach was mad. And I mean mad. His face was the color of a tomato. He looked like he was about to burst. He probably knew about his high blood pressure. _

"_Coach you shouldn't yell. Doctor's orders." Andy Garcia reminded him. _

"_Screw the damn doctor," Coach pointed from me to Sam. "What's wrong with you two huh?" neither of us answered. "No answer?" _

"_He knows what he did." I said. Sam scoffed. _

"_Wayne, you're such a fucking hypocrite. I bet you weren't even thinking about her. All you want is Rachel anyway." _

"_Shut-up." _

"_What do you think about her? How she fits around you? How'd she taste? Feel?" _

"_Shut-up!" I was trying not to react to him, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to ring his neck. _

"_You know what Brucie? I bet on the first night she'll give it up. It's always the quiet ones. I'll make sure to take pictures of her on her knees with my dick in her mouth." I escaped from Jake's hold and punched him in the face again. He laughed. _

"_You're just jealous that you wouldn't be the one to make her pop." I tried kicking him with no use from half the team holding each of us back from each other. And while he was saying this, it was all true. I did think about her like that. For a while. I've always put it to the back of my mind though. Until today that is. _

"_That's it! Wayne you're off the team!" Coach said. _

"_Ahh ha!" Sam pointed at me. _

"_You think that's funny Macpherson? So are you!" _

"_What?" all Sam could worry about was himself. _

"_I must be out of my mind for doing this. But I can't tolerate you two like this." Coach left the scene. I heard the locker room door slam. After that, everyone seemed to go back to their own agenda. I picked up my gym bag. I just wanted to get out of there. Try to convince her not to go. _

"_Stay away from Gemma." I warned. _

"_And what if I don't?" Sam stared me down. _

"_Stay away from her."_

_I stood outside of Gemma and Rachel's room in their house in the suburbs. They lived in a New England style house. This is where I grew up beside the manor. So many memories. I opened the door a crack. Gemma was picking out clothes. They were all over the bed. She was wearing a purple tank top and these tiny spandex shorts. Her dark hair was in curls down her back. The signature pink streak I had caused peaking from under her soft locks. I smiled. Two weeks ago for Halloween she asked me to go get hair dye. I'm a guy what am I supposed to know about hair products? I just picked up any fucking dye. Turns out it was permanent. Oops. I liked the streak. It made her more unique that she already was. And I had left a mark. I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. I don't think I've seen so much purple in my life. Gemma's purple plaid bed was over by the window and Rachel's orange one was by the closet. Everything was frilly and…girly. _

"_Hey." I said making myself known. She turned around with that smile on her face. Her eyes gleaming with happiness. _

"_Great you're here! You can help me pick something to wear." She pulled me by the hand. I sat on her bed and lay down. _

"_Get up you ogre! You'll wrinkle my clothes." She tried to roll me over. I scooted over so she would think she did it herself. _

"…_What's the occasion?" she stopped putting a shirt on a hanger. I could tell she didn't want me to know. _

"_Umm…nothing. I'm doing some spring cleaning." She said. _

"_No your not. Because first of all, it's November. Second of all, for as long as I've known you, you have never thrown anything out. And you are against throwing out clothes. So what's the deal?" She bit her lip and opened her eyes wide in that innocent way she did. _

"_Okay; I'm going out on a date." _

"_Who with?" I lied. I wanted to see if she would tell me. To hear it from her and to hear it from Sam were two different things. _

"_Sam." She said. _

"_Are you sure about this? You barley know him. He's three years older than you Felly." _

"_Don't call me Felly. And I realized that when I said yes. He's amazing. You're three years older than me." She lay down on the bed next to me. I had the urge to touch her hair as it spread out next to my face. Her shampoo smelled like soft lavender and vanilla. It was driving me wild. This from a fifteen year old? How can I feel like this? _

"_So you're serious about this?" I turned on my side. The outline of her bone structure. The movement in her throat gave it away. She wasn't sure. There was something she was hiding. She faced me. _

"_Yes." _

"_Gemma you can't be serious. What do you really know about Sam huh? Beside that we're friends. Nothing." _

"_I don't know why you care so much. It's not like its you." she rolled off the bed and went back into the closet. _

"_What if he wants more from you?" what did she mean by 'It's not like its you.'? _

"_You mean sex?" the way she said it so bluntly scared me. I didn't want to think about her with other boys like that. They would only use her. But yet…I can't stop myself from doing so. _

"_Yes I mean sex." _

"_Maybe I should to get rid of my V-card. Everybody else has. I mean, Rachel isn't as innocent as she plays. She lost hers to Jamie Doyle. Did you know there are fruity flavored condoms? Do they have to be used in sex or can you just lick them because they taste good?" She came out wearing a short little white dress that flowed over her upper thighs. She looked beautiful. _

"_Is this okay?" I grabbed her wrist. _

"_I don't ever want to hear you talk like that! And please wear a sweater." _

"_What's gotten into you Terminator? I know you adore Schwarzenegger, but a little obsessive much?" she pulled away from me. "I want the full experience of dating. I asked Rachel and she said it isn't exactly how it is on T.V." _

"_I can show you." I don't know why I said that. It sort of came out. Is it what I really wanted? I could protect her if… _

"_Really?" her eyes were so bright with excitement. Could her innocence be corrupted? _

"_Sure. If you want." _

"_Oh absolutely! I should be prepared." She tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled. _

"_Okay…" I put my hands on her hips and pulled her closer to me. She let her hands travel up my biceps to wrap around my neck._

"_What'd you do that for?" I wanted to push her away. I didn't want to resist the lethal feel of her touching me. She furrowed her eyebrows. _

"_Do what? Wrap my arms around your neck?" _

"_Yeah." _

"_Natural instinct. Read it in a magazine." _

"_Oh…moving on. He'll say something sweet to make you believe him." _

"_Like what?" _

"_I don't know; like 'I could drown in your eyes.' Something every guy tells a girl. It's all in the tone." _

"_What if he's being sincere?" _

"_Then you'll know. 'You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.'" _

"_What would you say?" I contemplated saying something I would regret. I already told the truth twice. _

"_I'd say, 'There isn't anybody else I'd rather be with than you.'" I could see her blush. _

"_What's next?" _

"_He'll run his finger through your hair," I tangled my fingers in her soft hair. "And he'll lean down close to you." I lowered my face right in front of hers. Our lips were so close to touching. They looked so soft and plump. _

"_Gemma! Sam's here!" we both heard Tina call. She looked at me like I she wanted me to make a move. I let her go from my grasp. _

"_I have to go." She said softly. _

"_Yeah okay." She grabbed a sweater hanging from a knob in the closet. I watched her stand in front of the door before she opened it. I just made the biggest mistake of my life. I think I'm in love._

"Bruce!" I snapped out of my thoughts eying the small fingers snapping in front of me. Gemma was standing with Rachel and April Chan in a circle around me.

"What's going on in that head of yours? School is over." She smiled.

"I spaced out again." I said yawning. I stood from my chair and picked up my books.

"Watch it Wayne; people might start to talk." Rachel ruffled my hair. I slapped her hand away only to earn a laugh. She walked out with April, leaving me with Gemma.

"Hey so…are you going to be at my surfing thing today?" she asked. I didn't know if she wanted me to go because, most likely, Sam was going to be there. Whenever we were around each other nowadays it ended with a fight.

"Do you want me to be there?" she started walking out the classroom. I followed her.

"Why wouldn't I want you to be there? You're always there. You're my good luck charm." Gemma was always an amazing surfer. If she could she'd live at the beach.

"I'm touched." We walked through the door. Before she could say any more, Sam took her from me. That's usually how it worked.

I met up with Rachel at her locker at the fountain in the center of the school. I banged my head on my locker. "I hate Sam."

"Why? You two were thick as thieves." She put some books in her locker and looked at me strangely.

"Does this have anything to do with a girl? Does her name start with a 'G' and end in an 'emma'?"

"Why?"

"Nothing. I just…forget I asked." She closed the locker door and leaned against it. The girl in question appeared.

**Gemma**

I opened my locker and took out my surfboard. Bruce gave it to me as a present last year for my birthday. Custom made. It had pink hibiscus flowers on the orange paint. It meant so much to me.

"Hey Rachel can you take my books home for me?" I handed her two lonely text books.

"Okay I really have to go now. Wish me luck!" I turned around to face Sam. He pushed me into the wall and trapped me. He kissed me so forcefully. It was rough and it hurt. I imagined it was Bruce I was kissing. He would never kiss me like this. Sam backed away from me. What the hell was his problem?

"Rachel I'm leaving. Let's go." He said. Rachel scrunched her face.

"I thought we were—" Bruce gave her that 'I know you didn't just say that look.'

"Oh! Gemm I'll see you at home." Rachel waved and walked off with him. I tried to look at Bruce but Sam was blocking my view with his arm. He wouldn't look at me. If I couldn't get respect from him, where would I get it from? I hated it when he wouldn't look at me when Sam was around. It was like I was disgusting to him. I felt disgusting knowing that I didn't feel the same way I felt about Sam with Bruce.

"Some people just don't get it." Sam said. He kissed me lightly on my cheek.

"What'd you do that for?" I asked.

"Kiss you?"

"No. Well yeah. Do you know that not everybody wants to see your hands all over me? You know Bruce is my friend. And I'm starting to think you do that on purpose."

"I don't know why you give a shit about Wayne anyway. It's not like you're with him." I predicted how this would end. This wasn't the first time we argued about my relationship with Bruce and it definitely wouldn't be the last.

"He's my best friend Sam! Why shouldn't I give a shit? He's only being concerned!"

"You two fucking deserve each other anyway! That's what you want isn't it?" Sam had never yelled at me. Sure we got into arguments, but not like this. Something was really getting to him.

"What's that supposed to mean? Sam what the fuck is wrong with you? This isn't you."

"Don't act stupid Gemma, the innocence doesn't suit you."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't give me that fucking bullshit! You know exactly what I'm talking about! You think I don't see the way you look at him? The way he looks at you?" I lowered my eyes from his. I didn't want to look in the heart of the truth but nor could I deny it. How I felt.

"You're in love with him and he's in love with you. Do you have any idea why we're not friends anymore? Are you that much of an idiot?" I guess I deserved being called an idiot. There was no fooling Sam. He wasn't a dummy. Noting I could say or do would make this situation any better. What's done is done. I lowered my eyes in the shame. The shame of being me, shame for trying to put on this lie everyday and act as if nothing was wrong. Or how I feel.

"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot Gemm." Sam said. He touched my cheek with his thumb brushing away my imaginary tears. I wish I could cry. But facing what I knew was true for so long, I couldn't.

"When I first asked you out, Bruce and I stopped being friends. We got in a fight after practice. The way you look at him isn't the same way you look at me. And…at this point I think we're better off being friends." I looked up for that. The hurt I saw in his eyes was too much for me to handle, but both of us knew this was for the best.

"You're willing to let me go so I can be with your best friend." I joked.

"I must be high right now, but yeah. Something about the two of you makes sense." he stroked his hand through my hair.

"You'll make a girl really happy one day."

"That's what everyone says after they breakup."

"Well it's the truth this time." I smiled. The only truth of many lies.

**Two Months Later…**

Tonight was prom. It's supposed to be the best day of your life. Instead, so far it's been my worst. One of them anyway. Here I was dressed up in this expensive dress and I didn't even have a fucking date. No one asked me. Sam went with some hoe Callie Freeman. Bruce was wherever, Rachel and I went together with some friends, and Holly J. was going around taking embarrassing photos of people for the yearbook. A month had passed since Sam and I had broken up. And not once had Bruce tried anything. I knew this whole thing sounded too good to be true. Bruce Wayne, of all people, would never be interested in a middle class sixteen year old girl like me. He liked heiresses with skinny bodies and blonde hair. But the way he made me feel made my stomach do back flips. I looked around the ball room of the hotel trying to find someone I knew. I didn't really want to be here. I was Rachel's plus one so I had to go. Look how that ended up being. Alone and hungry with only a pack of gum to keep me company. I'd rather be at home wrapped in a blanket watching reruns of _Three's Company_ and _Happy Days _on_ TV Land_.

I stood from my chair at one of the many large tables. Everyone was pretty much drunk, high or both. The room smelled like fresh thrown-up Vodka and Coke. And you could see it on the floor. I walked past Deb Tanager throwing up. Ha-ha bitch. What? Don't give me that look. She dumped spaghetti sauce down my shirt in eighth grade at the school bake sale. I opened the door of the girl's bathroom, baffled at how many people were in here. The room was packed with girls and sequins. I was wearing a light blue gown with a mermaid cut, halter straps that crossed over back. My hair had fallen out of its bun long ago. I just didn't care anymore. It's not like Bruce was making a move. I spotted Holly J. standing by the make-up covered sink taking pictures. She was wearing this bright purple dress conjuring the 80's. I knew she made it herself. Her mom Gladys was the fashion columnist for The Gotham Times. Had tons of designer clothes to her dispense and yet she decided to shrug them off.

"Hey babe. Come to watch the fun with me?" she snapped a picture of Pamela Davey with her dress ripped on the side. Pam was nice when she was drunk. Or high off of E. and since that was everyday…

"Are you really going to develop these?" I laughed.

"As many as I can. Would you like to pose?" She smirked.

"No. Have you seen Rachel? I've been looking for her all over. I thought she'd be in here."

"I haven't seen her since we got here. Check the picture booth; I heard there's a lot of commotion with the sail boat in the pool."

"Okay. I'll see you later." Holly went further into the swarm of girls. I hope she didn't get lost.

"Save me a dance!" she yelled. I left the bathroom with a mission. On my way to said mission I found my target. How cheesy did that sound? I could see them so wrapped up in each other. They were looking into each other's eyes like the world was going to end tomorrow. I felt like I was going to throw-up like the others. Bruce was holding her close to him; running his fingers in her hair. The huge walnut in my throat grew bigger and bigger each second I stood there. I wanted to shoot something. They were so into her each other, they didn't even notice me standing there ten feet away. I fought back the tears with a sniff of my nose. I stormed out of the ball room and into the hotel lobby wanting to escape. How could she do this to me? She knew how I felt about him. And she takes it upon herself to stab me in the back. I found Alfred sitting in the Wayne's Rolls Royce waiting. I tapped on the window. He had a shocked look on his face.

"Miss Gemma? What are you doing out here? The formal isn't over for another hour."

"Alfred can you take me home?" I rubbed at my nose, irritated by the stupid corsage.

"Of course dear." He unlocked the doors. I walked around to the front of the car and hopped into the passenger seat. He seemed appalled that I would sit up front with him.

"What?" I asked softly through my sadness.

"Nothing. It's just that…I haven't seen anyone do that since Mrs. Wayne." He said. I smiled.

"Yeah well, apparently there are a lot of things you haven't seen."

"Is anything of the matter Miss Gemma? You seem heartbroken."

"It's nothing Alfred. Some things are just too good to be true. And they always will be."

**Review? Absolutely!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Two Years Later…**

I was finally going to graduate high school. Only a month left. Class of 1999. I would finally be an adult at the end of May! Only 30 more days! All my hard work of seventeen years had paid off with a bitter sweet ever after. Everyone I knew up and left. College took everyone away. Crystal was going to USC in California, Sam is at Florida State and everyone else is wherever. Rachel deserted me for Princeton. With Bruce not far behind her. Bruce. Out of all the people I knew, he was the only one that didn't talk to me. Why? That's a good question. When he left, he said he'd stay in touch. Two years go by really fast and suddenly you realize that you haven't heard anything from them. Not a phone call, a letter, an email nothing. What was he doing that was so important? As vulgar as it sounds, was he fucking Rachel? The thought makes me shudder every time. Remembering them kiss at the prom. How for so long I could never get him to look at me the way he did her. That one summer before he left changed everything. Didn't that mean anything to him? And no matter how hard I tried to say I hated him for not hearing a word from him, I could never fix my lips to say it. The biggest mistake of my life was letting him in the way I did. I knew what I had done was wrong. But that feeling of being in love…it wasn't like anything I had ever felt before. He made me sad, mad, happy, laugh. All the feelings I felt wrapped into one Christmas present under the tree. Was it wrong to want that so bad? What if this person was meant for me? As silly as it sounds, soul mates. I would never get that anywhere else than him.

My stomach growled. It wouldn't be me if I ignored the craving for food but I really needed to get my homework done for government… ignoring my stomach, I mindlessly gazed out of the window. The cold wind left my skin prickly from the heat. I heard the slamming of what sounded like a car door. Probably the neighbors coming home. I looked out the window just to check. Indeed a car was sitting across the street, kitty corner to our garage. It was nothing. But I couldn't help but wonder. Gotham was getting more dangerous in the past few years than over the last few decades. The city was becoming more desperate and mob killings are on the rise. I wish I could convince him to give the business up...

I looked at the car again. It looked like someone was sitting there motionless. Suddenly my hunger got the best of me. I dropped my pen down on my paper. I rose from my chair backing away from the desk. Since Rachel left, the room had gotten so much bigger. Bigger for the better. I walked down the stairs to the kitchen, passing the living room. Tina still had the same floral print couches and chairs from twenty years ago. Even the same multi-stained carpet. She refused to get more modern furniture. I walked into the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator looking for anything I could find. Let's see…orange juice, week old chicken wings, grapes, milk, cheese blah blah blah—hey cherries. I took their bowl out and put it on the table. I plucked the stem from the round fruit. Bruce used to feed me cherries.

The ringing of the doorbell stunned me. It also scared the shit out of me. It rung again. Tina and Alex specifically told me not to answer the door. Another ring shook the house. I left the kitchen to the hallway. I opened the closet door grabbing a baseball bat in case of the worst. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. With a strong grip I slowly walked to the front door. As I got closer, my heart pounded faster and I started to sweat. I unlocked the door. Ready to swing I opened the door. I swung the bat with my eyes closed. It was stopped by a stronger force. I tried again only to be stopped another time. I opened my eyes. The initial shock was followed by anger and happiness then anger and shock again. I dropped the bat. It clattered against the hardwood floor.

"Bruce? What the hell…are you doing here?" what was he doing here? Why was he here? I scanned his face hoping I would find an answer. His hair was floppy like the day he left and his eyes were the same lovely brown. He let a small smile cross over his mouth.

"Umm…can I come in? Please?" he asked. What was I supposed to say? No? The man I loved decided to show up out of the fucking blue.

"…Yeah, yeah sure." I got out of his way as he floated in the door. I shut the door behind him and leaned against it with my arms crossed across my chest. Something was wrong. I just knew it.

"What's wrong Bruce?" I asked him. He turned around to face me. He started to make a smile but decided not to. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his expensive coat.

"What do you mean Felly? I came to see my best friend." His voice was nervous. This didn't make any sense.

"You came to say 'hi'? Tell me what's wrong." I backed away from the door and made my way towards him.

"Nothing's wrong Gemma. Why would you think that?"

"Because people just don't leave Princeton to say 'hi'. That's what phone calls are for. Why are you really here?" I secretly knew why he was here or at least I had an idea. I just wanted him to say it, to tell the truth. About a year and a half ago they reopened Thomas and Martha Wayne's murder case. That was around the same time his calls went from daily to weekly to once in a while. His letters were shorter. A little while after he stopped saying 'I love you'. A little while after that I got nothing at all. Joe Chill's sentencing was on Thursday.

"I needed to see you. I missed you." he touched my hair the way he used to.

"So I'm not some detour to Chill's sentencing on Thursday?" I pushed. He sighed. I wanted to rip my hair out and cry. I pushed his hand away from me. I slowly trudged back to the kitchen. I wanted to punch him in the face and wrap my arms around him at the same time.

"It's not like I didn't think about you Gemma. I thought about you all the time. I still do." His voice was like a greater presence behind me.

"Bullshit. You came back for the trial. And that's fine. But don't lie to me." I opened the fridge door grabbing one of Alex's _Heinekens_. I uncapped it with the bottle opener. I watched him eye me taking a long gulp. He stormed to me, taking my beer.

"Since when do you drink?" he touched my hands. I took them away before I could feel anything.

"A lot of things have changed since you left Bruce…if you needed someone to talk to why didn't you just call? You know you can talk to me. About anything."

"Gemma you wouldn't understand! You don't know what it's like for me! It's a challenge everyday!" His voice was dark. I never saw this side in him. At least he never showed it. I couldn't describe the kind of freighting emotions this mysterious dark side created. I just knew it wasn't him. "You have parents Gemma! Tom is always around! So don't tell me about biological!" he yelled again at me. The tears began to flow down my face. He never yelled at me. Never say never. I walked up to him. I slapped him across the face. He didn't respond except for a red cheek. I sniffed my nose.

"You think it isn't a challenge for me? If you honestly think that it's easy barley knowing about my biological family you're insane! My whole life has basically been one fucking lie after another! You think it's easy for me knowing that my mother is dead? Her family doesn't want anything to do with me Bruce! Do you know how that makes me feel?" I raised my voice. He made me so angry. He had no idea what its like for me. Mena's family hated me. I was an illegitimate child.

"What do you mean they don't want anything to do with you? I thought they loved you." his voice was barely a whisper now.

"Oh I guess it just slipped my mind in the last two years you've been gone! Apparently Mena was supposed to marry some rich guy before she died. Her family resented her. I went back to Portugal and…my uncle told me he passed me off as his child. They found out I was hers and…they're still mad about her deserting the marriage thing. I'm shunned Bruce. For so long I never knew what it was like to have a family and to have that taken away…you have no idea how much I feel like shit right now." I wiped my eyes of any tears left. The news had come to me as a complete shock. When my Uncle Sally told me what happened…I hadn't even known he said he was telling them I was his kid. I felt more alone now than ever. And where was Bruce? Nowhere to be found. I needed him the most now. To feel that I wasn't alone. "I needed you and you weren't here. You know what it's like to have a mother. A birth mother. I'll never have that kind of relationship with Tina. So Bruce, tell me about biological. While you're at it you can also tell me the truth."

"Tell you the truth about what?"

"That our relationship meant nothing to you. The things we shared were all lies."

"They weren't lies. I've never felt the way I feel about you with anyone else. I never will."

"What about with Rachel?"

"Never with Rachel. You make me feel like I have everything to live for. I'm in love with you Gemma. I don't even know why sometimes. You drive me crazy." I raised my hand to his face. My hand formed to his soft cheek like so many times before. I shouldn't have yelled. He just wanted someone to talk to. I pushed myself to him in a tight hug. I leaned my head on his chest.

"You know I'm always here for you right? No matter what happens."

"Yeah." he said. For a while we stayed as we were. No words could interfere with us. I wanted him. Forever I wanted to stay with him. I stood on my tiptoes to equal our height difference. I looked him in the eyes.

"Do you know why I love you?" he kept my focus beneath his brown locks.

"You make me forget everything about why I feel the way I do. When I'm with you, I don't think about my mother or any of the other things. The hurt goes away. The emptiness goes away when I'm with you. No one else makes me feel this way." He stroked my hair softly. He leaned forward and ever so gently placed his lips upon mine. It felt like fireworks. That feeling of having the Fourth of July every year. That anticipation and excitement until the first firework to explode. I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him closer to me. He pulled me tighter than I thought possible. He nibbled on my bottom lip the way he used to; followed by his tongue against my lips. I gratefully welcomed him in. I was right away lost in the domination. I was shocked when he began to back me up into the table. I knew what was going to happen next. The feeling of a butterfly fluttering in my stomach erupted. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away.

"I'm sorry. We should stop—" he said.

"I don't want to."

"Gemma—"

"Fuck me." I blurted out. I don't know why I said it. It was a force more powerful than I was. He pulled me to him again. We kissed. This kiss was filled with more desire than the last. I unbuttoned the first buttons on his red striped shirt. I could feel the bulge in his pants. God I wanted that. I unbuttoned faster as I felt myself heat up. He pulled my tank top over my head revealing my lacey red bra. He ran his hands up my sides to my breasts. He squeezed them in his hands. I sucked in a breath. He pulled me strongly by the hips to him. I unzipped his pants letting them fall to the ground. He stood there shirtless and all in his black boxers. A giant tent sitting there waiting.

He reached behind me grabbing the hook of my bra. He unhooked it. Oh god. My breasts were let free. "You are beautiful." He said.

I jumped up wrapping my legs around his waist. I heard him laugh. He set me down on my feet much to my dismay. His hands traveled to my shorts. He unbuttoned them pulling them down. I can't believe this is happening. My matching red panties were pulled down as well. I leaned into the table. He spread my legs open. His lips made contact with the inside of my thighs.

"Bruce what are you doing?" he shushed me. He kissed higher until he found that place between my legs. I gasped. All I have to say is that his tongue is amazing…

From there he kissed me roughly on the lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer to my body. We pushed everything thing that was on the table to the floor. I snickered to myself. I bet Rachel never did anything like this. Laying flat on my back with him on top of me was like the dreams I always had. Except not on the kitchen table. My arms were pinned to the table by his strong hands.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Yes. I trust you." I bit my lip. Deep down I knew this was a bad decision because we were both hell bent on our emotions. But I don't care. He kissed my forehead softly. I held my breath when he pushed inside me. I heard him groan.

"What's wrong?" I asked concerned.

"Nothing. You're just so…tight." He laughed.

"Is that a good thing?"

"It'll hurt for a bit. Just try to relax darling." I lifted my head.

"You mean to tell me that you might be too big?" I squealed. All he did was laugh at me again.

"Oh god! Why do things have to go in there—" a large pain was rumbled through me. It was like a tearing sensation. I dug my fingernails into his back. No not like that. It didn't feel that good yet. Bruce's hand wiped my eyes dry.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He grabbed my leg, pulling it up to his naked waist. He pumped his hips slowly at first and then built up the speed. This was going to be magical.

I woke up the next morning in my bed. Naked. With an arm wrapped around me. A smile leapt on my face. The joy and overexcitement in this moment was undeniably a fantasy I had always dreamed. I shifted a little. He groaned and pulled me closer to his chest. I rolled over to lean my head on him. He looked down at me.

"Hi stranger." I said.

"Hi." For some reason it felt like that awkward phase after two friends having sex. Oh. It was. Does he remember what happened last night?

"So…last night…thank you." I smiled.

"You know what I just noticed?" he wrapped me up in his arms tightly.

"What?"

"After all these years, you still have your baby sheets."

"Huh?" my eyes dropped to the sheets we rested on. Barbie was lying beneath us in her Dream Boat with Teresa and Christy. How embarrassing.

"You didn't think to even mention that we were doing the dirty on something so innocent?"

"You weren't complaining."

"I couldn't. Someone was too busy shoving his—" Bruce shut me up with a kiss. I gladly obeyed him. He was hard again, poking me in the knee. Was round two better than one?

"I see you are excited." I joked between kisses. He didn't say anything. Instead he pushed into me before I could stop him. Not that I wanted to anyway. This time he went really slowly. I begged with my hips for him to speed it up.

"Bruce. I'm really really horny right now and slow is not cutting it."

"I'm making love to you."

"I didn't ask for making love last night. I asked for fucking. I thought we were on the bandwagon for fucking." He shifted his hips and hit my spot just right. I tried not to moan for the sake that Tina and Alex might be back from their thing. Shit. I gasped.

"Don't tell me you're there already." He laughed. I couldn't even form words properly it felt so good.

"Tina—and—Alex." He stopped moving. The expression he had on his face was priceless. He pulled out of me. Jumping from the bed he grabbed his pants. I was right behind him putting on the first thing I could find.

"That's sexy." He said. He touched the collar of his shirt that I had on.

"Then we should do this more often." I pushed him out the door quietly. I checked on Tina and Alex. They were sound asleep in bed. I took Bruce's hand in mine and led him down the stairs. When we got to the door, I had the strangest feeling that something was off. I opened the door for him. He held my head in his hands and kissed me. Maybe this was the feeling. It felt like our last kiss.

"I'll come back after the trial. I promise." He said. I nodded. A promise is a promise.

Tina, Alex and I sat around the kitchen table eating breakfast. It was a couple hours after Bruce left. I can't believe I did it. By 'It' I mean sex. For the first time with the man I loved more than this world. My innocence was gone. I felt like a true woman. I'm sure I was glowing. Maybe after the trial we would pick up where we left off. I hope he is okay. I should have gone with him. I got up from my chair to get the cranberry juice on the counter.

"What is that stain?" Tina's voice sent a shock through me. Stain? I pretended to pour my juice in the glass while listening.

"What stain?" Alex answered annoyed that she was starting this so early.

"That stain right there."

"I don't see a stain. You're seeing things." I turned around. And there it was. The infamous stain of my 'popped cherry' some would say. A little blood had gotten on the table cloth. The white table cloth. They couldn't know. I walked to the table slowly. I put the glass down on the table and reached for the bacon. I 'accidently' knocked my glass over. The red juice covered Alex's side of the table and Tina's view of a stain.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to." I said.

"Hurry and get the paper towels." Tina shooed it off. Mission accomplished

Bruce came back like he promised. He was waiting in the living room while I was upstairs. My parents had gone to the linen store for a new table cloth. I walked down the stairs wearing only his shirt and a horny smile. He stayed seated on the couch. I stood on the bottom step waiting for what happened earlier. For him to take me in his arms and ravish me. He quickly stood up like something was wrong. He wiped his hands on the back of his pants. I stood in front of him. I held his hands in mine to keep him under control.

"Calm down." I smiled. He didn't stop acting so tense.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Things had gone from fun to serious before I could do anything. I knew this was about the trial.

"I—Gemma—"

"Don't lie to me Bruce. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing."

"There has to be something wrong. Just talk me through and we can work it out."

"This—you and me shouldn't have happened. It was a mistake. One giant mistake." My heart fell out of my chest. The constant disappointment in my life had risen to a new level. One that I could never have thought would have reached me and Bruce.

"What are you talking about Bruce?"

"I can't do this. I need to leave."

"Leave? Is this about the trial?"

"It's not you it's me."

"Bruce that is the lamest excuse in the book. You can't runaway from this. From us. What about me? You can't give what we have up!" I reached for his cheek but he grabbed my wrist tightly. His eyes were so dark. Evil.

"You were a mistake. We were a mistake. It shouldn't have happened. I let myself lose control."

"Bruce you can't just leave." A single tear left my eyes.

"There are some things that I need to figure out myself. I won't be able to do that here. I'm sorry." He let me go. So close to the door. He hesitated with his hand on the knob. He broke my heart. Took it and smashed it like glass. That wasn't love. But before I knew deep down inside that maybe, just maybe, he would keep his promise. This was after.

"So that's it. You're going to give up. What about your father? He wouldn't want you to do this."

"What do you know about my father? I can't do this." I hated him but yet I was still in love. I couldn't control what I said next.

"Bruce if you leave don't you dare come back." he opened the door. One step was all it took for him to not look back.

"BRUCE!" I screamed. He was gone. So this is what it felt like to be truly alone. I picked up the vase on the coffee table. I threw it at the door. The glass shattered like my soul. I stood alone in eerie silence from the death of my life. Life sucks. Especially now since not only was the love of my life gone, but I had to clean up Tina's stupid vase. I'd do it later. It was ugly as fuck anyway.

**Ten Years later…**

The airplane smelled like recycled air. It didn't help that I was sitting next to this man that smelled like a sewer the whole five hour flight. But I'm not going to complain because Rachel is paying for my seat.

"Good Afternoon folks. We are beginning our descent to Gotham International Airport. The current weather is sunny at 66 degrees with 15 miles per hour winds. We will be at the gate early today in approximately twenty eight minutes. Flight attendants prepare the cabin for arrival. Thank you for flying with Gotham Air and have a great day." The pilot said over the speakers. Thank god. I felt like I wanted to throw up. I leaned back in the seat with a sigh. Rachel had convinced me to visit her. To meet her new boyfriend. What's his name again? Harvey something. Ugh. We could have just Skyped. Is that even a word? It is now. I closed my eyes. Only a week and I'd be back home in L.A. It had been one long argument about me visiting. The main topic being how I had shut myself off from the family. Hardly called or visited except for a wedding and the family reunion. I didn't mean to not keep in touch. It was out of my control anyway. And even more of the argument revolved around Wayne. I don't have enough respect for him to call him Bruce. After leaving us…the way he did…that was unforgiveable. He didn't know about…! It doesn't really matter now.

And then showing up out of the fucking sky like he hadn't done anything wrong. I constantly begged Rachel to avoid telling me anything about him. I got so angry when she gave him my phone number. He called at least three times a week. Each time I hung up. His voice made me cringe. Stop thinking about him, he's worthless. I reached for a magazine. Hopefully _People_ and _US_ would get my mind off of everything. How devastating. The People magazine had a picture of Wayne wearing a snazzy white tux. Hair slicked back. That was new. He changed. Since when did he care about looks? The Bruce I used to know could care less about taking a bath some days let alone if he was wearing Armani or mixing his Gucci and Prada. However, I will admit that it was a very attractive photo. His new look suited him well. Hmp. After all these years I could hate him to the fullest and he still made my heart flutter. I was still in love him. Dreamed about him telling me he still felt the same way. The title read, _'Billionaire Playboy Back and Sharing it All!'_ I flipped through the pages finding the article. More photos of him with two sluts on each arm. It is so comical how everyone thought they knew the real Bruce Wayne. Apparently the only person who could hold an interview was Vicki Vale nowadays.

_V.V.: Mr. Wayne everyone is so glad to have you back! _ What a whore. Don't you hear the underlying 'Fuck me, fuck me!' in her voice. Shit. I shouldn't be saying that I begged the same thing.

_B.W.: Please call me Bruce. Mr. Wayne was my father._

_V.V: Well you definitely inherited his charm._ I can see her now; flipping her hair and showing her cleavage. Too bad for her, Bruce is a legs and butt guy.

_B.W: Thank you._

_V.V.: The question that is on our minds is; where have you been for the last seven years? _Yeah that's a billion dollar question Vicki.

_B.W.: Traveling. Living among the people and learning about different cultures. Finding more about who I was. _He deserted me to go fucking traveling?

_V.V.: Really? Some might say it doesn't take seven years to discover oneself._

_BW: I'm not most people. _Ain't that the truth.

_VV: You definitely aren't. I'll take that answer for now Bruce. You have been back for almost a year now. I'm sure that is enough time to get used to the regular world again. The world of the rich and famous men I presume._

_BW: What are you hinting at Vicki?_

_VV: How is your love life? Any girls you're smitten with? Any future Mrs.?_ GEMMA DAWES! I was supposed to be next in line. At least I was in my head…

_BW: Well…_

_VV: Oh come on Bruce! There has to be, or has been, one girl that you, off all people, fell for! You can't be Mr. Playboy Billionaire forever. But do tell._

_BW: There was one girl—_

_VV: Who is she? What's her name? Model, actress, socialite? We the people need to know! _

_BW: Now hold on—_

_VV: Do I need to order an angry mob among us Gothamites for you two to be together?_

_BW: Ah…she doesn't live here anymore. She was one of my childhood friends. It didn't work out in the end._ Yeah because you LEFT! Idiot.

_VV: Were you in love with her? _

_BW: Still am._

_VV: WOW! You read it here first folks! The Bruce Wayne has admitted he is in love! Well why don't you call her lover boy?_ I won't be answering the phone.

_BW: I highly doubt she wants to talk to me._ Hell yeah I won't. _I don't think I'll ever see her again._

_VV: Maybe you should use some of your charm. I mean she is the love of your life. Isn't she?_

_BW: The charm didn't work on this one. It was for real…But that was a long time ago and we have both moved on._

_VV: So is there another waiting in the wings?_

_BW: That's…to be continued._

_VV: Well thank you so much Bruce! It has been a pleasure. Oh and happy 30__th__! I'll have my people call your people._

_BW: Sure…_

He was talking about me. Our relationship, however brief it was. I closed the magazine. The date said, March 2008 in small print. The first sit down interview since he 'returned from the dead'. Yeah right. Dead my ass.

"Unbelievable isn't it." I gasped. My neighbor pointed to the magazine. She was a Hispanic woman about my age. Her hair was framed around her face in waves.

"Yeah I guess so."

"I wonder who he's talking about. I wouldn't mind his attention." 'ME! ME! ME!' I wanted to shout. I refrained myself from doing so.

"Is he always like that?" I asked instead.

"Afraid so. But this girl he's talking about…she must have done wonders on him." I hadn't even heard about the interview. I turned the channel on the T.V. whenever they brought him up.

"I'm Ana Ramirez." She introduced herself. Should I respond? It would be rude not to.

"Gemma Dawes."

"Did you just say Dawes?"

"Yeah."

"So you're the infamous Gemmzie." Damn that name. You know what, damn Rachel too.

"The one and only."

"I know your sister Rachel. I'm a cop for GCPD, so I'm down at the D.A.'s office a lot."

"Oh. I don't work in the D.A.'s office. I'm an architect. Not yet, but I'm sure that promotion is coming any day now." I said sadly.

"You sound sad when you say that."

"Yeah well…it wasn't my first choice."

I searched the airport for Rachel. I _specifically_ told her 1:00 in the afternoon. To think I had to take two planes to get here and she wasn't even here on time. She better— "Gemma!" I heard her voice from behind me.

"Rachel!" we ran to each other like on T.V. when you run on the beach in slow motion. She hugged me so tight I thought she would suffocate me.

"Rach I can't breathe." I said to her shirt.

"Sorry. I missed my baby sister is all." I was tired of being the baby sister. Although I did like that she cared. We pulled away from each other and I was confronted with a man standing next to her.

"Who the fucking hell is you?" I asked shocked. Proper language was obviously excused at this time.

"Gemma, please use correct language." Rachel huffed.

"Oh sorry; who the fucking hell _are_ you?" he held his hand out to me. I raised my eyebrow at him. He had golden hair, kind of tall and very attractive in a grey suit.

"Hi I'm Harvey Dent." Oh. Dent! That was his last name!

"So?" Rachel touched his arm lovingly. Eww.

"Gemma this is Harvey Dent. Gotham's new D.A…and my boyfriend." She smiled. Well at least it was a step up from Mike what's his face. He was a disaster no lie.

"Hi I'm Gemma."

"Rachel said your nick name was Gemmzie." He said.

"She did now?" I gave her the evil eye. I still hadn't told anyone not to call me that. I bring this upon myself.

"It fell from my mouth." She smirked.

"Yeah and my hand will fall right upside your head."

Rachel and I laid next to each other on the couch in the living room of her apartment covered in a blanket and surrounded by sugary goodies. The whole night we had been catching up with each other. In years I hadn't felt a bond with her like the one I do now. I guess since we were older, there was a lot more in common between us. Gotham Gossip came on. Cranberry Jones—her real name is Gertrude. I laugh so you can too—said, "Tonight we will learn more about the interview he only gave to Vicki Vale. And who is the mystery girl who stole his heart? Is it actress Tanya Berg, train wreck heiress Luciana Duvall, heir to the Duvall hotel empire or is it supermodel ex-flame Trina Mender? Find out now."

I didn't care enough to silently scream my name. He was never friends with Tanya Berg or Luciana—saying she's a train wreck is the only thing accurate on that show—Duvall. Well everyone did Luciana… and then Trina Mender was just like eight quickies periodically over three months. He didn't care about them. "Can we turn? Please." I asked.

"Yeah." Rachel flipped the channel to one of our late night favorites. QVC. Yes I watch QVC. Only when I can't go to sleep. And I like watching the affordable house hold products. Don't laugh you probably do to.

"How is Chase?" she asked. It sounded more like venom but I don't mind. Chase Brampton is my…boyfriend. The term 'boyfriend' is loosely used in this context. Boyfriends aren't supposed to hit. He caught me off guard with his handsome good looks and charming personality. What a mistake that was. He caused everything.

"He's fine. Being an ass. I take you still don't like him."

"Something is fishy with him. I can't figure it out but I will." Rachel poured a handful of M & M's in her hand. It's not a fishy smell; it's the cocaine he sells.

"Where'd you meet him anyway?" I couldn't tell her the truth. No one could know the truth. I don't even know the truth sometimes! Two confused people can only cause more confusion.

"You know. At that…party." Lie. Well it depends on where you start the story. If you start in the Narrows it's a lie. Start at that one party it's the truth. Thank goodness she didn't push that. She tapped me on the arm.

"Remember when you accidently ordered a year supply of bird seed?" she laughed and then snorted. That was my thing. One summer I ordered bird seed. I didn't know we'd get a whole year supply. The birds liked it though. I could tell she knew something was wrong, when wasn't there. This time my mind was focused on him.

"Would you like to talk about it?" I didn't respond to her. "You know he asks about you. He's worried."

"He should be. I hate him."

"No you don't. Call him. You'll feel better."

"You don't understand Rachie."

"Try me."

"When he left…he didn't just leave me."

"Gemma what are talking about? You're scaring me." I felt like total shit. For so long I wanted to tell someone other than Alfred. He guessed anyway so that doesn't count. I hated thinking about what could have been. Whenever I did I went back to the old me. What was the old me? The addicted pill popper drinking traumatized victim Gemma. No. that's what therapy was for. Oh and more pills I was prescribed. I guess I do really bring this on myself. The pain of everything. All I had to do was call him and hope he answers. Why don't I feel like that's not the case? Why don't I feel anything at all anymore except for the _constant_ pain? No. In therapy I can't be the victim.

"Never mind Rachel. It doesn't matter anymore." I twirled my spoon in my vanilla ice cream tub.

"I won't stop pushing." She said.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see you happy."

"Why don't you talk to him?" she didn't answer. I looked her in the eyes. She didn't look back. Everywhere but my face. So we are both fucked up.

"It's complicated." She finally said.

"A lot of things are complicated. How complicated are we talking about?"

"Very."

"…We all know how Bruce is. He has his own period sometimes."

"He thinks I love him. More than friendship." He wasn't lying when he told Vicki Vale that he had moved on. Instead he moved on to my own sister. That's real Jerry Springer Bruce; keep it in the family. How did Rachel feel? That was the question.

"Does he know how you feel about Harvey?"

"I don't know how I feel about Harvey. We started dating with labels five months ago. It's too soon to tell."

"Do you think you could love him?"

"Yes."

"Do you love Bruce?"

"I'm confused."

"That doesn't answer the question." This time she looked up at me with tears in her eyes. It was all my fault.

"Yes. But I can't anymore. Then I can't tell him because I still want to be there for him. To have that connection. You understand don't you?" she wiped her nose with her sleeve. I seem to be at a cross road; I can't tell her off; I mean look at her, she has snot on her sleeve. As insulting as that sounded I don't intend to be a bitch. I just…sometimes she makes me sick to my stomach for being so…perfect and trustworthy and caring, when I myself can't see that and can't be that. I hated her and myself at the same time. But I wasn't going to let myself become what I feared. I could never go back after I crossed. I wrapped her up in my arms and held her close to me. To think this should all be the other way around.

I got back to L.A. a week later with more emotional instability than I left with. The only good thing out of it was that Rachel and I had actually reconnected. Some what. We were still distant but at least we are closer than how we were. Some what. I curled up in my fleece Scooby-Doo blanket on the couch in my living room. I couldn't go to sleep. So I decided to watch QVC of course. Tonight was Cleaning Solutions. I did need a new vacuum. And the one they were showing could steam clean carpets and do regular vacuuming. Wow! I picked up the phone on the coffee table and dialed the number on the screen. After a few rings the call wouldn't go through. I can always go on the internet. The phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered. The other line hung up. Huh. That was strange. I stuffed the phone back under me. I changed the channel to _We_. It is impossible to escape him. Bruce was everywhere I turned. I couldn't get away. An entire show was dedicated to his rich and famous leisurely life. This time I wanted to see what they said about him.

"Good evening and welcome to Behind the Fame. Tonight we dig deeper into the Bruce Wayne Mystery. Starting first with the controversial interview given only to Vicki Vale." The woman said. The screen cut to 'hidden footage' of the interview.

"Our own body language expert Peter James is here to uncover the billionaire's secrets." She finished. This was stupid. How can some body language expert tell what he's thinking? I didn't know what he was thinking sometimes! With all the publicity he's getting, I feel like I'm being replaced. Replaced by every whore, reporter and gossip magazine there is. He traded me in for the fame. And what hurt more than anything was that he didn't seem to care. No emotion when he went out day after day with heiresses. Or their mothers. It meant nothing to him. He had forgotten about us. And that made me want to be there more than ever. No amount of cursing I could do, would bring the past back. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to break again. If I broke…I'd be the old me. I'm trying to get out of my past, not go back. I got off the couch and walked to the kitchen. I needed to stay clam. No drastic decisions. I opened the cabinet door looking for a jar of peanut butter. I pulled it from the shelf.

I wonder what's he is doing right now. I got a plastic spoon and opened the jar. My cell phone was resting on the counter not too far away. I felt the urge to call. No. I left Gotham to get away from the drama not be pulled back into it. Oh, what the hell. I picked up the phone and scrolled through the contacts. And there he was. Bruce's name was the last on the list. Rachel. She must have done it when I wasn't looking. I waited for him to pick up. And waited. And waited.

"Hi this is Bruce. I cannot come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep." BEEP! Why was that so loud? Just my luck that he wouldn't answer. I decided to leave a message.

"…Um…Hi Bruce. It's Gemma. Uh…it's been a long time. I uh…I don't know why I am calling you so early, because it is three in the morning in Gotham. I just wanted to hear your voice. Listen Bruce; I'm in love with you," I had no idea how much this one phone call would do. I was having a mental breakdown on the inside. One that was long overdue and put off until now. The solid bottom that I had built from therapy in my mind had broken. And we all knew what was going to happen next. "Sometimes I don't know why I am. The way you make me feel is worth living in this world. And—you have a way of making me feel like total shit like I do right now, but I still love you. I keep thinking about the night you left. Replaying what happened in my mind over and over again. I can't figure out what I did wrong to make you leave. I'm sorry. So sorry for everything I ever did and said that could have caused you to feel whatever you felt. I want us to—" there was another beep to signal the message was over. I have more to say. I put the phone back down.

"Damn it." I mumbled. Was that a mistake? I had confessed only an ounce of what I was feeling over the phone to a man three thousand miles away. Who was possibly sleeping and wouldn't hear the message until that morning if he didn't delete it. Is that all I am now, a message on the phone? My hand wouldn't stray away from the phone. I picked it up again and dialed. On the fourth ring someone picked up. And it wasn't who I expected.

"Hello?" it was a woman. She sounded very sleepy. He wouldn't…would he?

"Uh…hello? Who is this?" I asked.

"It's Trina. Who is this?" that slut Trina Mender. I knew it! Well, I didn't know till she answered the phone but… Her voice was all bossy sounding. Bitch.

"It's Gemma—"

"You're the Gemma that's been calling? I don't know who you think you are, but you need to leave Bruce alone. He's with me now." I heard the voice of another woman. She was laughing.

"I think you mean he's with us!" the other whore shouted. Was that Luciana Duvall? If your going to sleep around, at least try to go up if you can. Don't settle for some cheap slut. Like these two. I choked back a squeal.

"I didn't know he was with anybody. Can you…just tell him that I called."

"Babe! Come back to bed!" Bruce. How could he?

"Know this; keep your distance. We're busy." She hung up the phone before I could say anything else. I felt like the knife I was stabbed with was pushed deeper. I was sick of it all. So tired of living like this. In the lies. I braced my back against the counter. I slunk down to the floor. My trigger had been pushed. The one person who had been there for me since day one had left me behind. He really didn't care anymore. My hand moved to the cabinet behind me. I opened it knowing full well what I was going to do. I took out a blue bag. My therapist told me to flush them down the toilet. I put the bag on my lap to undo the knot. I took out a bottle of Vodka first. I turned the bag upside down, letting the contents fall put. Prescription pill bottles rolled onto the floor one after the other. I had about three for depression, five for pain, two for sleeping and one I didn't know what the hell it did but it worked.

I took the Xanax first. It worked the best. Then I took a painkiller. My head hurt so badly. I drowned with the vodka. God the feeling! We were reunited after so long apart. I let the magic take over my body. The hurt and the pain washed off me like I was a duck. But now there is something else; I felt empty. So much more empty than before. What did I feel? I didn't have any kind of emotion but the sadness I was in and I can't figure out why I do. And I realized…I was truly alone. Alone to sulk. Alone to rot in my own demons of rejection. No one would come find me. The last eight months had been nothing but bullshit. All the therapy and self control had left when h is voice was replaced by two fifty cent sluts. I wanted to throw up. He didn't want me. I had my fair share of chances and I blew it. I stood up from the floor and went to my bedroom. If I slept for a while, maybe I would feel better. Or possibly still feel like shit.

**Bruce**

The bed was missing one person. My hand searched the tangled sheets for that familiar warm body I missed so much. I heard the bathroom door open. She came out wearing a light green nightie. It made her eyes sparkle. I smiled. I bought it when she went out of town a few months ago. Begged her to wear it and she turned me down every time. She walked slowly to the bed. My eyes wouldn't leave her delicate body. She gently crawled to me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and brought her to me.

"Where have you been?" I whispered in her hair. It smelled like lavender and vanilla. Her skin was baby smooth under my rough fingers. She laughed.

"First I had to go pee. Then I thought I should put on a fashion show for you."

"What kind of fashion show?" I pulled a strap off her shoulder and kissed the bare skin softly.

"How about a naked fashion show." She moaned. I knew she would get a kick out of this.

"I don't think we should be doing this Felicity. My wife might come home and catch us." She allowed me to call her Felly as long as we weren't in public. I didn't care for the rule so I did it anyway. Especially when she would get hit on or some guy would flirt with her.

"Maybe she can join us. I heard she likes a little kink." I nibbled on her ear. Her head fell back against my chest. I took the other strap from her shoulder. My hands roamed her seductive thighs.

"No panties Gemma? That's very bold of you."

"Like you care as long as you get your cock sucked."

"I'm counting on it."

"I don't know about that. Its way too big for my—"

"You need to leave Bruce alone. He's with me now." I woke to a small voice coming from the chair in my bedroom. Trina was standing by my clothes. What was she doing?

"What are you doing?" I asked. She waved me off with her hand. "Babe come back to bed!" Luciana silenced me with a rum induced kiss. Trina dropped whatever she had on the chair. "Were you on the phone?" I asked. Her blue eyes smiled.

"Yeah. It was some reporter. Don't worry I took care of everything."

**Alfred**

I walked in the master's bedroom with a tray of food. He should be up by now. Eleven is pushing it. Three heads were popping out of the sheets. Discarded clothing lay all over the floor. I for one was not picking up those hussies' clothes, pardon my language. I rolled my eyes. He'd learn one of these days… And for heaven's sake; even I knew who Trina Mender and Luciana Duvall were. And if you are intimate with someone even the help knows of, that is certainly not a very good sign. I placed the tray on the small coffee table in the corner. His mobile was flashing with one missed message. I picked it up. Now to figure out how to work this darn contraption. Ah. I listened to the message. Miss…Gemmaline? Why hadn't he answered? Oh, he must have been with these two. Miss Gemmaline was never the same after his departure. I tried to help the best I could. She lost everything the first few months. I deleted the message. I wasn't going to let him hurt her again. God knows she's the one who should be in that bed.

**Gemma**

My head hurt worse than before I took those damned pills. The phone call played over and over again in my head. I wanted to make it stop so badly. It was teasing me every time his voice came through the speaker. I heard a sound from the living room. A shudder crawled in my body like honey being poured. I got off the bed sluggishly. I walked down the hallway. The room looked like I had left it. Dark and silent. The memorable sound of the cocking of a gun was so close. He found me. I turned around hoping it wasn't who I thought it was.

"Chase?"

**Review? Absolutely!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone that read and reviewed, it really meant a lot to me. This chapter has a surprise in it. Might not be a happy surprise but still it's a change from before. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Three: Marty**

I am finally a success. Wait; depends on what you mean by 'success'. Let's look at it this way; I have my own plaque on an office door. In gold! Two years of crap ended with a promotion at Parkman Designs West. Thank the god. Being an intern didn't pay shit. I don't love my job, but I don't hate it. Parkman Designs West is one of the biggest architecture firms in the world. It was the best place to work at last year according to Architecture Digest. It was also known for breaking barriers in building structure. And for pain in the ass board members. A knock erupted on my office door. "It's open!" I shouted.

My friend Drew walked in smiling. He carried a bunch of folders in his toned arms. The devilish smile on his face chewed me up and spit me back out. He leaves me weak at the knees for him after his routinely rounds.

"There's my little builder," He said huskily. I blushed a bit. Drew is a ladies man, in and outside the office. He sweet talked with everything that moved. Even men…only for them to do his work. Duh. Unless….

"Drew it is only a building," I said sighing. My first building is being constructed down in San Francisco. I'm excited and worried at the same time. I haven't seen anything. No one would tell me anything. Random phone calls would let me know everything is fine. Most of the time, it wasn't enough for me. I needed to have that closure.

"And you should be excited for it. I know; how about a proper celebration, a few friends here and there," Drew smiled affectionately at me. There's that smile again…

"Drew if your friends consist of Crystal, Mary-Jane and acid, do not include me," I said caustic. Drew is the 'dealer' in the office, being that he is hooked on coke himself. He sold weed, coke, heroin and other crap. I got my…pills from him. I'm trying to change, I really am. I only used them when I had pain from the accident and headaches. I am not an addict. Addicts can't control themselves.

"Gemma you know I would never do that. Listen babe, sales are up and I have something for you," Drew showed me that evil smile of his. His pure white teeth contrasted with the dark pigment in his hair. The midnight blue tint is blinding my personal morals. He wore the very same costume that had my relapse worse than I thought it would be.

"No. I don't want it Drew," I told him sternly. Why can't he understand the things he does to me? He teased me with his new 'products'. After therapy, I wanted to be done with this. Therapy was dangerous to my psyche. Reliving every moment I had stored in the back of my mind for good reason, was brought out again so I could experience the terror again.

"Okay, okay. I can take no for an answer." He held his hands up in defeat.

"Good, now I have things to do beside listen to you rant about your latest drug conquest." I picked up the phone hoping he would get the hint to leave. Luck isn't on my side.

"Then in case you need it, I'll leave it right here," his voice persuaded me with every letter that rolled off his tongue. He took out a prescription bottle from his pants pocket. He set it on my desk. "It's on the house babe," he winked and left.

He knew he had me. Each and every time. I grabbed the bottle from the view of anyone else. I'm supposed to be the good girl here. I went back to signing papers. My hand brushed the computer mouse. _Yahoo!_ Popped up with a new article about Bruce the world was buzzing about. Whatever. I've moved on and so has he.

_Its killing you isn't it. _

Oh god. I could here that tempting voice in the back of my mind once again. My hand started to shake. I felt my heart rate increase. All the other distractions were silenced out to where all I can hear is my breathing become hard and slow. The airway in my throat started to close itself off.

_You're not going crazy. You know who I am. Think hard._

I followed my eyes to the bottle. The small white pills looked so appetizing. Their aura conned me in like the sucker I am for them. I fell for their pleasure more times than Drew did with his extravagant words.

_It kills you that Bruce doesn't care. You feel like shit don't you? He doesn't know about Marty and you were left all alone. Take me. I can make it all go away. And that's all what you want. For everyone to go away. To be just you and him. You miss mommy too don't you? What would Marty think of you now? You failed as his—_

I wiped a tear from my eye. WHY am I hearing this voice again? I thought I was done with that lifestyle. Whatever it was spoke the truth. I took the bottle in my hands. This would be the last time. What am I talking about; I said that the last time. No; this would be _the_ last time. The phone ringing got me out of my own darkness.

I sighed before I spoke. "Parkman Designs this is Gemma speaking how—"

"Gemmzie I need to see you now. Make it fast." My boss said. I leaned back in my chair. I hate it when he calls me Gemmzie.

"What's this about? I have a lot of work to do."

I spun around in the chair a couple of times not realizing the phone cord getting wrapped around the chair. The phone eased itself off the desk and to the floor. Why can't we have cordless phones?

"What was that?" my boss asked. I tried to stand up to unravel the cord. Half way sitting and half way standing, I pushed the cord away from me. Pretty dumb idea because the chair ended up falling on my back. There was no one around and yet I felt embarrassed as if I had been caught with toilet paper on my shoe. Which happened before at this club one time. Believe me its worse than it sounds. There was a runaway Porte Potty. You're probably wondering why a Porte Potty is at a night club. So was I.

"Nothing. I'll be up as soon as I can—"

"No. Now Gemmzie."

"Okay, my god," I shrieked…maybe I shouldn't have done that. I stepped out the cord…and then fell on my face. I crawled out from under the chair. I fixed my skirt and shirt. I walked to my door and closed it with a soft thud, careful not to disturb my co-workers. I quickly made my way to the elevator. I waited the arrival for my sentencing. When the bell rang, I took one step into the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor. Why did the elevator have to come fast today? My heart was beating with anticipation of what my boss was going to say. I couldn't control the sweat on my hands. The doors opened to a long hallway of double door offices.

Jay, the CEO and way other bosses, were all on this level. Whenever you got a phone call from one of these offices, you were either getting fired or getting a promotion; and then you did something to get fired from that promotion. I've only been a real architect for about two years, so I know I'm not getting fired. Beside, the construction of my first building isn't even finished yet, so I can't get fired. Right…? RIGHT? Oh god. I walked the long carpeted hallway until I got to the last double doors straight ahead. I knocked.

"It's open," I hear Jay loudly through the thick door. He must be feeling well today. Crap; he was his meanest when he felt well. I reluctantly opened the door to the spacious office. His desk in the middle of the pristine room with a bay window overlooking L.A. I was reminded of _The Godfather_. I love that movie. I mentally counted each step I took, walking to the two chairs in front of the desk. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen—

"Sit," He ordered.

How did he know I'm hovering over the chair? I sat down quickly not wanting to deal with his attitude. He turned around to face me. Jay pulled out his illegal crocodile leather chair from the desk. We sat in silence while he stared me down. I kept my eyes focused on one small sliver paper clip resting on the smooth desk. Hopefully this won't be too bad—

"Aren't you going to say something? I'm sure you're wondering why you are present." Jay folded his hands together. I mentally slapped myself across the face. This is not going to be good. I cleared my throat.

"Um…is there something you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked him. He let out a dramatic sigh.

"Of course I want to talk to you about something. You think I want you up here for my health? Don't think so sweetheart."

Jay could be a real asshole sometimes. On Tuesday and only Tuesday he wore Versace and only Versace. Everyone had to wear one piece of clothing by the designer or a knockoff. He called them Versace Tuesdays or Versadys. How do you pronounce that word? It's not even a word! Not to mention that he bragged about his new whore—excuse me; wife. How he got married six times over a course of ten years baffled me. He isn't a skinny man, more on the heavy side. And he sported gray hair and is kind of wrinkly. Not quite George Clooney but definitely not McDreamy and McSteamy either. What made the marriage of five months more mediocre is that Genevieve, his wife, his eight years younger than I am. It deeply disturbs me because I haven't reached the big 3-0 yet.

"What is it sir?" I mumbled quietly.

I really hope today isn't the day I do the walk of shame with my dingy box of office supplies. The poor thing doesn't even have handles. And until Drew walked in, things were looking up in the greatest ways possible. Or at least getting a teensy bit better. I paid off my credit cards last week, I went out on a date for the first time in years and didn't finish a whole tub of ice cream and cookie dough rolls alone. Right now, the worse that could happen—

"You're moving to Gotham."

Is that my rent goes up, or the sky happens to fall—god forbid—or Crystal tricks me into go seeing Twilight again, and the shoes I ordered from _Zappos_ might not come in the mail this afternoon, and—wait. Did I miss something? I missed something didn't I?

"Could you repeat that again? I didn't hear you. I spaced out," I said.

"You heard what I said," Jay responded as he played with his new stupid Iphone in front of me. That's like one of the rudest things ever to do. At least be considerate to put the darn thing on vibrate.

"No sir, I honestly didn't."

"You're going to make me put down my phone for this aren't you? Gemma I'm in the middle of playing Mobsters."

"Good heavens Jay—"

"You're moving to Gotham."

Jay and I looked at each other for what seemed to be an eternity. I erupted in laughter for…more than a while actually. Jay got tired of looking at me with any seriousness. He couldn't be right. He can't be. My smile turned down to a frown.

I fumbled over my words to say the right thing and not curse. "You can't be serious."

"Oh but I am."

"What? But—but—Why?"

"The building cost too much to build in San Francisco. Everyone likes San Francisco; they are a particularly friendly people. No one really likes Gotham anyway. Why not put it there? Besides, the building is almost done and it's time for you to see how it looks and take control over the construction site."

"And when did this happen?" Mother fucker—

"Umm…Nine months ago. Didn't I tell you that?"

"No. No you did not. Sir."

How could he do this to me? I left Gotham for the same reasons everyone else wants to leave. The city is dangerous and full of bull shitters and phonies. I left my old life in Gotham. I…I can't go back. Not after everything that's happened. Jay took out a piece of paper from a folder in this desk and picked up a pen. Whatever he's writing better be goddamn important.

"Oh…must have slipped my mind…well, you are. Anyway, your housing is all set and should be available in a few days. Just in case a hotel room is being considered. You said your sister lives out there I think she'll be glad to have you."

Not once did he look at me since I laughed in his face—ooh…maybe I shouldn't have done that. I don't really want to stay with Rachel. In the two years since I visited, we hadn't stayed on the best of terms like when I left. We had a really big argument not to long after and didn't talk for more than a few months. We're trying to work on our relationship, one step at a time. Neither of us wanted to say how we really felt. And I know she's holding back how she feels about me. Sometimes I wish she would just say it.

"I thought you said a hotel room would be open." I really hope it is.

"Correction; the hotel room is being _considered_. I said nothing about it being available," Of course. "Your car should be arriving in a couple of days or so—"

"Let me guess, the car will arrive in the 'or so'." I hope I don't get the company car. They don't even have tinted windows. I could be stalked and not know it. And in Gotham, being stalked is the least of your worries.

"Close your mouth."

"Okay."

"I took the liberty of cancelling your taxi for this evening," Once again, why am I not surprised? He's the extraordinaire of not minding his own business. "My driver will drop you off. I found the perfect car for you. I think you might like it. It has been on your wish-list since New Years hasn't it? I used the money from your paycheck to buy it. I hope you don't mind. Just tell me the address."

He smirked at me through his cloudy demeanor. At least he doesn't know why I need a new car. Around New Years, my Mustang was totaled in a car accident. Brand new; not a year old yet. However because of how it was totaled, the F.B.I is investigating how it happened. And I am no stranger to the F.B.I.

"Umm…1600 Howdy Avenue. It's pronounced Hoy-d but I say Howdy. You know because of hello in the south," I joked. He paid me no attention to me while he wrote the information down on the stupid fucking paper with that stupid fucking pen. "Never mind." Jay ripped the paper off the pad and placed it to the side of the desk. "This is just dandy. When exactly will I be leaving?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Your flight leaves tomorrow morning." He reached in a drawer and handed me a boarding pass.

"Ooh first class. And on Jet Blue. Exactly what I wanted from the company Christmas Party. What's the point of flying first class if you're going to Gotham?" I asked sarcastically.

"I think that's all I need to tell you…oh! May will look after you. It'll only be a few months, so stop complaining. You're dismissed." May Parkman is Jay's twin sister. She's the CEO of Parkman Designs East. I heard she is stricter than Jay. Anyone stricter than Jay is the Anti-Christ. Jay picked up a copy of the New York Times completely ignoring me. I stood from my chair and walked back to the double doors of doom.

When I got back to my office, I made sure to close the door behind me and locked it. I slumped against the back of the door exasperated and depressed and angry. I broke down in a fit of tears. No matter how I tried to escape, I was always brought back. My deepest fear was that everyone would find out the truth about me. My lies, my cheating, my stealing. I hurt so many people. How can I live knowing that? I got off the floor. My feet carrying me lazily. I sat in the chair and opened a drawer. The pill bottle fell out from behind the other meaningless crap in the drawer. I picked up the bottle fully knowing what I'm about to do. I opened a water bottle and took two white pills. Change is for the birds.

I've been at my apartment in Downtown L.A., packing for the last six hours. Jay let me off early from work. Whoopee! I'm just about done too. A private moving company and ten different kinds of moving boxes arrived at my door, ready to go. Unfortunately for me, I have to pack everything in a box myself. Isn't that lovely? I stuffed the last pair of jeans I had in a large box with the others. They had been my favorite pair of when I was sixteen. Baby blue, stretch, super tight and low rise. I can't believe I haven't gotten rid of them. They had a giant paint splatter across the front and a bigger hole starting from the crotch and ending at the thigh. Courtesy of Bruce Thomas Wayne. I was repainting the room I shared with Rachel since she had left for Princeton right after her graduation. Bruce had been helping me over the summer.

_I poured a can of lime green paint in a paint tray. It was on the lighter side, so Tina could be able to stand it when she walked in here. Everything had been cleared out yesterday and I covered the carpet in blue tarp myself. Tina and Alex said I should do something on my own. I don't think they meant paint a room alone but they didn't say no. I stood to admire my hard work. The cleaning process had been a major pain. I refused to throw anything away. And because of that, a few arguments were produced. But I managed to keep it all. I heard the tarp crinkle behind me. I turned around to find Bruce carrying four cans of paint, a bag of food, what looked to be a huge sheet under his arm and a pack of brushes in his mouth. He looked so cute! He set the paint down. Those bulging muscles of his popping from his short sleeve shirt. I ran to him and jumped in his arms. He caught me with a few stumbles. I threw the brushes from his mouth and kissed him hard. His hands responded lively, sliding up the back of my top. His rough fingertips tickled my skin. I pulled away from him smiling. "Hey you," I said. He laughed at me. _

"_Hey to you too. What was that for?" he asked. I wriggled my eyebrows at him suggestively. I wish he would just screw me already. What the hell was he waiting for? I didn't really care for painting the room. I wanted to spend time with him. And have sex with him…rip my clothes off._

"_I have my reasons." _

"_Then you must want something."_

_I stepped down from his arms and walked to the window. Things were going great between us. I had finally gotten the guy. So much had changed since the night he told me he loved me. I would be the one everyone wanted to be around. Not Rachel. I would be the most popular girl in school. No longer residing in her shadow. And it's bitter sweet because I don't want to be like this, but I can't help myself not to. Sometimes I think how life would be if Mena had been alive. Or if she happened to show up on my doorstep. Would things be different, or would I be in her shadow also?_

"_Gemma!"_

_I turned to Bruce. He had a smile on his face from ear to ear. He made his way over to me. I was wrapped in his arms tight. I breathed in his scent mixed with the open paint. _

"_What's going on in that head of yours? Didn't you hear me calling you?" his fingers played with the tie from my halter top around my neck._

"_No. I wasn't paying attention."_

"_As usual."_

"_Shut-up! You're one to talk."_

_I pushed him lightly against his chest. He backed away enough for me to see the green paint smeared over the thighs of my pants. It matched the same pattern he had on his pants._

"_BRUCE! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND? Do you know how much these pants cost?" I screamed at him. He laughed and shrugged his shoulders._

"_I hate those pants. I like it better when you don't have on any…" he squeezed my butt for emphasis._

"_Like you could get that far." His hands crept up my legs like monsters. Fingers touched the zipper on the pants. He pulled so fast, I heard the pants had a huge gash in them. It is what I asked for isn't it?_

Before we could start painting he did get that far. Not exactly sex, but we didn't have any clothes on by the time we were done. I grabbed the tape and sealed the box shut. My stomach grumbled. Time for a late night snack. I left my bedroom regretting that day with him. I'd fallen more in love with him than I had been that day. And the pain I felt when he left outdid how I felt. The cold tile of the kitchen floor cooled my tired feet. I opened the freezer looking for the Rocky Road ice cream. The treat sat in the back of the freezer. In the cold. All alone. I plucked it from its spot hungrily. I slammed the door shut. I got a spoon from a drawer. I loved my kitchen. Not that I traditionally cook, but I highly believe that it's better than Rachel's. Rachel. I had been meaning to call her. Like she can't pick up a phone. Why do I have to be the one to instigate the call?

I stabbed the ice cream with the spoon. I should call. But what was the number? I keep forgetting. She had moved in with that boyfriend of hers. Harvey Dent. She got rid of her phone number and now they shared his home phone. Don't get me wrong, Harvey is a great guy. But…why can't I have a Harvey Dent? Why do I get all these brainless asshole jerks? I opened the drawer full of junk looking for the number I wrote down on that piece of paper. Ah ha! I found the paper wrinkled up and coffee stained. I picked up the phone on the counter and dialed. After a few rings, I got a response.

"Hello?"

"Hey Rachie it's me," I said.

"Gemma! I was starting to wonder what happened to you. What's going on?"

Her voice sounded actually concerned for me. Not to long ago, she was yelling _'Gemma you are drunk! Get over yourself and grow up! It's not my fault! Crying isn't going to bring Marty back Gemma.' _at me. She had no idea how long it took me to move on with my life. I had something to finally live for after Bruce ripped my heart out and he was taken away from me just as slowly. I had lost Bruce again in one lifetime.

"Umm…you'll never guess what happened to me today," I pinched the bridge of my nose hard. I don't want to think about Marty. It hurt too much. I was a failure. I couldn't protect him.

"Try me," she said enthusiastically.

I sighed again. "I'm moving to Gotham."

"What? When? And why didn't you tell me this?"

I could envision her green eyes widening with surprise and happiness. Rachel makes the best surprised faces. I remember this one time when I was nine and me and Rachel accidently stumbled upon a little Bruce Wayne wearing absolutely nothing. Her face was like a giant tomato. What made it worse was that he had an erection. I didn't know that at the time. Alfred had to explain to him that his body was going to change and all that stuff. Basically the birds and the bees. I just so happen overheard that conversation. I never let him live that down. I laughed a little. I doubt he'd remember that now.

"What's got you giggling?" Rachel asked me.

"I can imagine the face you had when I told you my big news. Then I started thinking about that one time—"

"Are you thinking about us finding Bruce that one time?" she laughed. When I didn't answer, she died in hysterics.

"Why are you laughing? That was a traumatizing moment for me. My innocence was lost in those moments."

"It was your own fault. He told you not to come in. and when you invaded his privacy like you do all the time, you saw something you shouldn't have," I sure enjoyed it later in life. "Then shouted, _'I wanna try! How does it work?'_"

"That's not what I said! Why are we having this conversation? You're supposed to be the older and wiser sibling. And here you are talking about dicks."

"We are not talking about dicks. Just an event that took place involving a very expensive dick," she said.

That I had to laugh at. I snorted and coughed and almost cried and snorted again. Bruce is one of the most powerful and richest men in the world. That meant his…little friend was powerful and rich too. Emphasis on little. Rachel sighed and continued talking. "Why are you thinking about Bruce anyway? You supposedly hate him."

"I do…I don't know. You know what he did to me. I mean—" I licked the ice cream drenched spoon. "What ass hole takes someone's virginity, VIRGINTIY Rachel, then says that they love you but this was a mistake and then leaves? Not someone who supposedly is in love with you." I had heard every word Bruce had said. 'Gemma…I'm in love with you. But this was a mistake.' What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What did he have to do for seven years, that made our having SEX a mistake? It was a memorable time for me. There weren't a lot of guys that I went that far with. Only three since he left including Bruce. It was that good; like that feeling you get in your stomach on a roller coaster. And I was kicking myself in the head for it. But was it really that bad for him? Was it that bad that he had to say it was a mistake? Because I remember hearing _'Oh Gemma your so tight, take all of me, you like having me in you don't you? I'm going to make you come so hard; you taste so good, you like that don't you? I'm gonna fuck you stupid.'_ just some examples. He took my virginity, not the other way around. Not that I stopped him. But I was seduced. SEDUCED I tell you SEDUCED!

"I'm sure that there was some kind of reason he left Gemma. Bruce leaving without a cause just isn't like him." Rachel said.

"Yeah right, try saying that the morning after. See how that feels then. Oh but wait, you have hot district attorney ass all night long. Committed to staying in the morning."

"Gemma! He just walked in the room," Rachel whispered. But I knew she was joking.

"Oh whatever, it's not like he's listening. What's it like? Hot lawyer sex I mean. Like seriously, Harvey seems like the guy that's professional in the court room and then a wild sex machine in the bedroom. You better watch out before some random soccer mom tries to jump his bones. Maybe you guys could get some random girl and have a 3 some. Not with the soccer mom thought that's just…no soccer mom." I said it all blunt too. I loved being me.

"GEMMA! No soccer mom is going anywhere near Harvey, we're not having a 3 some, and having sex with the D.A is like Christmas in July."

"I don't get it."

"It's always steamy and hot and sweaty at night then—" I almost gagged. Like I really needed to know that. I did ask though.

"EWWW! Gag me with a spoon Rachel! And what is that supposed to do with Christmas in July...wait, never mind I don't want to know. I'm so telling mom."

"Like she cares, I'm an adult now. I can do what I want."

"Fine, I'll tell her you lost you virginity on the floor when we were at church. CHURCH, Rachel, you couldn't hold it in for 22 minutes."

"Whatever."

"Remember when the reverend found Jamie's used condom in the holy water and held it up in front of everyone." I cracked up laughing when that happened. Reverend Morris was like 2,000 years old and emphasis on the old. One time I actually thought he could fart baby powder.

"Oh my god! And then he said—" we both said this part.

"'_Is this one of the new candies you kids eat?'_" I had never felt his more at home then right now.

She started to say something else, but I cut her off. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait—and then he put it in his mouth and said _'salty and tart'_!" I sighed thinking about that moment. It brought back so many memories when times were happier.

"Is he still alive?" I asked.

"Yeah and still kicken'," Rachel laughed.

"Isn't he like, 10,000 years?"

"No, he celebrated his 98th birthday last year. Which you missed…"

Here we go again. I was invited to Reverend Morris' birthday. I wanted to go but I couldn't. And I told Rachel that more then once. It was the same year he'd be ten years old and I had just gotten out of—no. I'm not going there again. Thinking about it makes everything worse.

"How did this ever happen? Between you and me, I mean. We used to be so different."

Her voice fizzled out over the phone. How can she honestly say that? Until I almost drowned at Crystal's party, she was the ignoring me. Whatever childhood she remembers, it's not the same as mine. We tried to talk about things, but as soon as Bruce was the subject, we both closed ourselves off. It was like she didn't want me to be happy. All I wanted was to be with him. And he always wanted Rachel. I hated her so much getting everything I couldn't, including Bruce. Oh, but things are different now. For the better? For the worse? The arguments are more heated, both of us wanting to yell and scream at the other, say how we really feel and not care whose feelings we hurt.

"Are we really different than how we were Rachel? To me it's the same," I argued tiredly.

"...Never mind. Forget I said anything. I'm just happy to hear from you." Rachel sounded tired of talking to me. I'd be tired of talking to me too. I'd put not only myself, but the people I loved through hell and back more than once after what happened to Marty. And with what happened with Chase, it got worse. I don't blame her one second for hating me.

"Good. I'll be in Gotham for a while. My flight leaves tomorrow morning. I should get there around 1:00 PM. Can you pick me up? Holly and Crystal are going to drop me off. I already called them."

"Yeah, sure. By the way, how are Holly J. and Crystal?"

"They're fine. Holly's blonde now, still a fashion photographer. How ironic. And Crystal…well, we all know how Crystal is. Same Crystal since high school. Arrogant and conceded, but I love her all the same. Still bragging about how she thinks she had a five minute conversation with Denzel Washington. Even though she was so drunk, and it wasn't Denzel Washington. You know, my boss _forgot_ to tell me that he moved my building from San Francisco to fucking Gotham. I couldn't believe this shit. How the fuck, can that slip your mind? It's Gotham. Can you believe this shit? Cause I can't." I was furious. No scratch that: I am livid. There was a reason I left Gotham; to get away from that horrid city.

"Okay, Harvey and I will be picking you up." I grew curious as to what Rachel's love life was like. I prayed it was better than mine.

"I can't believe you and Harvey are still together anyway." I asked almost jealous like. How could I not envy her? She had a great job, a great boyfriend. Everything a girl could want.

"Yes, going on almost two years."

"Really? About a little bit before I got my promotion." I don't what they're love life had anything to do with my job. I just felt the need to say it.

"Yes! Stay out Gemma. What about you? Any new men in your life?"

"Rachel you hypocrite, you make it sound like I have a little black book." I laughed. I stuck my spoon in the now liquefied ice cream.

"Once upon a time you did." Rachel recalled that one Halloween when I dressed up as a call girl with a little black book. Not a hooker, like a saloon girl. Legalized.

"That was one time and it was Halloween. The only holiday were you dress up like a hooker and not get arrested…except for that one time with me and Holly J. in college. I went out on a date a couple of weeks ago."

"How was it?"

"Dating sucks. He took me to KFC with coupons."

"Oh no."

"Yes. At least I didn't get food poisoning. I guess I don't have anybody special. But I've been meaning to tell you; Chase is gone." I knew she would be thrilled about that. She despised Chase.

"When did that happen?"

"We broke up a couple years ago." Lie. Actually it was more like he left me for dead. Chase came back last week and he…She doesn't need to know that.

**Last week…**

_I am so fucking pissed. Not really but I think my thoughts would sound better if I was. So I'm pissed! The lobby at work is getting new marble floors. I could have sworn that those damn floors were done last year. My feet hurt from wearing these new pumps. I knew I shouldn't have bought these. But hey, I'm a sucker for glitter on a pair of shoes. I passed by each car wishing I still had mine. Stupid Chase. He ruins everything. Why can't he go away? My taxi cab waited outside the gate of the parking lot. Not too much farther. I counted the sounds of my heels. Pit! Pat! Pit! Pat! Pit! Pat! Pat! Pit! Pat! Pit... didn't my shoes go pit pat pit pat? Yeah that's what I'm thinking too. Someone else is in here. Okay calm down Gemma. You'll be fine. It's just a dark place, with cars and little lighting. I scanned the array of cars. I didn't see anything unusual. I started to walk again, more careful this time. I heard that noise again. I pivoted to see a shadow of a man behind me. I ran. Not fast I might add. I was picked up by my waist. I kicked and screamed. My attacker covered my mouth with his hand. I bit down hard on a finger. He yelped in pain. I was thrown against the side of a car. He struck me across the face and pushed me again. Chase's face was illuminated by the dim lights above us. He grabbed my hand and slammed it against the car window. The glass shattered and pierced my skin. I screamed. _

"_Listen to me sweetheart, you can't run. I will find you. No matter how far you run. I will find you," he snickered. _

"_What do you what?" I gasped when he dug a shard of glass in my hand more than it already hand._

"_What I want from you is the money you stole from me."_

"_What the fuck are you talking about Chase? I have no money!" _

"_You do to. And I want it."_

"_Screw you!" I shouted._

"_Excuse me! What's going on in here?" Carl the night guard showed his flashlight on us. Chase let me go and ran away somewhere. Carl came up to me._

"_Are you all right miss?" he tried to grab my arm but I back away._

"_Yes I'm fine."_

"_You're bleeding."_

"_Only a small cut."—_

"Gemma? Are you still there?" Rachel's voice brought me back to reality. I covered the scars and the light purple bruise on my wrist with the sleeve of my shirt. I shouldn't have let him get that close. I shouldn't have let him hold me down. But he came out of nowhere. What was I supposed to do?

"Yeah I'm still here Rachel," I said shakily.

"Why are you telling me this now? You hardly call anymore."

"Rachel, some things get in the way and…and I forgot. Too many good things. And bad things."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying Rachel. I had to get a Restraining Order against him though," that he doesn't follow. It states that he isn't supposed to go anywhere near me. Truthfully I got it when we broke up after three years of dating. I got it reinstated a few weeks ago. That's when Rachel stopped talking. She knew something was wrong. When did a woman need an order of protection from the _state_ of California against her boyfriend for something good? Or any state for that matter.

"What happened?" she said all seriousness now. Of course how could she not. She dealt with these kinds of cases all the time.

"It's nothing Rachel. It's nothing to get your cute little head to start producing questions; nothing to really start worrying about. I took care of it myself. I can handle it myself. I'm 28 not 4."

"Gemma, I'm your sister. I deserve to know. Why would you need a Restraining Order?" I looked down at the bruised skin that was my wrist again. I had seen Chase before that one time in two years. It was after I got a call from the police about my car. I went into the station and found him sitting in a holding cell. He had gotten bail, because of his paper pushing daddy. He followed me when I was going to the _AAA _dealership to talk with someone about my insurance. I finally came up with something to say to Rachel. "He's dangerous. To be around him doesn't help my or anyone else's life." I won't—refuse—to give Rachel the whole story.

"Did he hit you?" I fell silent with her guess. Hit the nail right on the head. Ha, hit. I made a non-funny somewhat funny not really joke. "Gemma, please tell me he didn't," Rachel cried. "Gemmaline-Kenzie Felicity Dawes! Answer me!" I could sense the tears that were forming in her eyes. I always knew I was in trouble when someone used my full name. I didn't want to say anything, so I didn't answer. Let her figure it out. "Gemm, did he? This silence is killing me."

"When did this conversation become serious? You know…hit is a very strong word." I joked trying to make light of the situation. More like beat to a pulp. Oh that's a sentence.

"If your in trouble…just tell me. Harvey can try to fix it. He helps people. He can help you."

"Rach I don't want him to think I'm some charity case." That was all I needed, for Rachel's boyfriend to step in. I turned around and leaned my back on the sink counter.

"Gemma, Harvey thinks the world of you. You're like a sister to him. He even wants to talk to you." Rachel handed the phone to Harvey.

"Hey Gemma, what's wrong?" Harvey's caring voice came through the speaker.

"Oh my god, nothing is wrong Harvey." I said. I rolled my head back and stared up at my kitchen ceiling.

"Gemm you know you're like a sister to me. Can you at least tell me?" he sounded so sincere. I couldn't not tell him. At least a little bit.

"Chase is…Chase is…How can I put this?" that's exactly what I was thinking. 'How could I formulate a sentence of what Chase was?' oh yeah, a murdering psychopathic insane being that beat and raped his girlfriend consistently.

That was something that was _my_ and the county of Los Angeles' business; not Gotham. "Chase is a danger to me. He's into some bad stuff Harvey. Some _really _bad stuff if you know what I mean." I could feel my throat closing the way it did when I was about to cry.

"What type of bad stuff?" Harvey changed from caring soon-to-possibly-be brother in law voice, to tough lawyer.

"Harvey you're the D.A.—of Gotham no less—you should know that when I say_stuff_ it means not good stuff. Whenever has _stuff_ meant anything good? Sounds like something illegal to me. A big negative on the happy scale."

"Okay that's a start. Do you want to keep going?"

"No, I'm sorry. I'll tell you when I get there. No bugging me with questions either. Not until I'm ready okay?"

"That's a deal. See you tomorrow." Harvey handed the phone back to Rachel. "Hey, you know if you need anything, I'm here for you. We're here for you." Rachel said.

"Rachel I need to go. Finish some packing. I'll see you tomorrow." I hung up the phone.

I wiped my nose of any snot that had formed and moved away from the sink to set the phone back on the stand. I walked down the hallway and turned into my bedroom. My bed had a lavender duvet with matching sheets. It had a modern feel to it. My suitcase was still sitting on my bed, with only some clothes in it. I went over to my closet. I stood up on my tip-toes to reach a shelf, which held a box that had some of my pictures and various items. I grabbed the side of the box and didn't realize how heavy it had gotten over the years. It dropped to the floor.

"Shit."

I sat down on my white carpeted floor. I was trying to put some things back, when I noticed a picture I had just put in the box. I took it back out and lowered my eyes. It was a picture of me, Bruce, and Rachel from high-school. Bruce had his signature smile of course. I and Rachel were kissing each of his cheeks. Not those. Holly had taken it. I sighed and put the picture back in the box. I tried to get more things back in the box, but was sidetracked when pictures of Bruce kept popping up.

The one that got me good was when we went to the movies. Rachel was sick and couldn't go so it was just me and him. Bruce insisted to go see L.A Confidential, of course I said yes. The picture of us before the movie had started. I had gotten a hotdog and dropped it when we went into one of those photo-booths. He let me have half of his. We had both ends in our mouths. I'd never forget that day. But that was then. He had changed. And definitely not for the better. I placed the photo back in the box.

I saw something peaking out from underneath the bed I had missed.

A blue and green baby book with a lovable seahorse on the cover, sat in front of me. Marty's name was spelt with rainbow glitter, each letter a different color. I felt a pain in my chest I hadn't felt in a while. It was apart of therapy to forget Marty. I couldn't do that. I can't. Marty meant everything to me after Bruce. It was all my fault he was gone.

_I woke Marty up early in the morning to take him down to T.J. and Bridgette's house in San Diego. We would be staying there for a few days over Spring Break. Having a kid at the end of his terrible twos and going to UCLA was a hassle. But I got it done. Crystal help out a lot since she already graduated college. She always took him to Toys R' Us and bought him whatever he wanted. And he eventually tried to use those tricks on me. I drove down the freeway fast. It's unusual for L.A. not to have any traffic, but luck must be on my side today._

"_Mommy?" Marty's voice called behind me._

"_What is it Marty?" I asked._

"_I'm hungry."_

"_You just had McDonalds not to long ago."_

"_But mommy!"_

"_Martin Bruce Dawes you will eat at Uncle T.J.'s house and that is final. We're almost there. Can you wait ten minutes?" Who would have thought I'd be the one deciding when someone else can eat? I myself can't get enough of food. This child will be the end of me. If I make it to four sane…_

"_Yes." He mumbled._

"_Thank you." I looked in the rearview mirror at him. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his face. He was so cute. Marty resembled Bruce so much. His dark eyes with little specks of green in them with freckles across his nose. Sometimes it kills me to look at him. Every once in a while I would break down in tears. I hate it when Marty sees me like that. I wanted to be that perfect mother to him. He knew what I would cry about._

_**Six months ago…**_

_I held the picture of Bruce in the frame close to my chest. I wiped the tears from my eyes. I didn't want Marty to wake up._

"_Mommy?" _

_I turned to see him standing in the doorway in his Mickey Mouse pajamas. He started to rub his eye. I sniffed my nose. He came in the room and sat down in my lap. I hugged him never wanting to let him go._

"_I thought you were sleeping." I whispered._

"_I heard you crying. Why are you crying?" he asked. I took the picture frame from between us and put it on the floor next to me._

"_No reason. You should get back to bed." Marty picked up the picture frame and looked at it. I could tell what he was thinking. 'Who is that? Why does he look like me?' I never got around telling him about Bruce. It wasn't a subject I thought he would bring up and I didn't think it would be appropriate for a two year old. He doesn't know who the Wayne's are and their legacy. He only knows about Alfred and that's it._

"_Who's that?"_

"_Someone mommy used to know." I kissed the top of his head._

"_He looks like me. Kenny says that daddies are supposed to look like their children."_

"_Marty there is something I have to tell you," I whispered. I took a deep breath. "This is your daddy." I pointed to the picture._

"_What's his name?"_

"_His name is Bruce Thomas Wayne."_

"_Why doesn't he come visit?" that killed me. How can I tell him that I don't know where his daddy is? But I don't want him to think he's any different from the other children at day care._

"_Marty…some people don't have a daddy anymore. And your daddy isn't here anymore. Do you remember Grandpa Alfred?" he nodded. "Grandpa Alfred raised your daddy like his own son when his mommy and daddy weren't around anymore."_

"_What happened to daddy's mom and dad?"_

"_They were hurt by someone really, really bad." I kissed his cheek._

"_Don't cry mommy. Daddy will come back. He has to."_

_Yeah he has to—_

_I felt a tap on my shoulder. Marty always is the best interruptions for my worst moments. I smiled at him. He tucked a small surfboard under his arm. T.J. stood behind him like a tower. He had a sad smile on his face. _

"_Uncle T.J. is taking me surfing. I want you to go too," he said. The freckles danced on his face when he smiled. _

"_I'll be out there a little later. Okay?" _

"_Okay." Marty ran out the door excited for his first lesson. _

"_Don't run!" I yelled. T.J. squatted down to my level next to the chair I'm sitting in. _

"_Are you okay?" he asked. _

"_Yeah. I'm fine. What makes you think that?" _

"_You had this blank look on your face. It worried me." _

"_Don't worry about me Tommy. It's from the pains of being a single parent." _

"_Well believe me when I say, that when I find out who Marty's douche bag father is, he better run and hide." It's only one of your best friends Bruce. No worries. _

"_I'll make sure I video tape that." he patted me on the back. He left through the front door. The only people I told who Marty's true father is are Holly J., Crystal, Rachel, Alfred, Tessa and Bridgette. I couldn't tell my own brother! But I could tell his fiancée. She understood what I was going through. Everyone else thought it was a one night stand. I got up from the chair and walked to the kitchen. Bridgette stood at a counter cutting celery. I sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. _

"_Are you sure nothing is wrong with you?" she asked. _

"_No. I think T.J. knows." _

"_Knows what?" _

"_That I'm keeping something from him." _

"_About Bruce being Marty's father?"_

"…_Yeah. I told Marty who his dad is. He didn't seem too affected by it. Now I'm wondering if I made the right choice." The night I told him about Bruce, I think I made things worse. He and I both know that Bruce isn't coming back. And now Marty wants to get him a Father's Day card. I can't take that away from him. He needs to have some sort of connection to Bruce. God knows I didn't have one with my own mother._

_We had been at T.J.'s for a week. As soon as we got here, Marty came down with a bad cold. His temperature was 104*. This shouldn't be happening. I took him to the hospital last night to be safe. I walked into his room with a teddy bear and his favorite toy train. "Hey sweetie." I said. He could barley wave at me. I went to his side instantly. I touched his head. He was so cold. "How are you feeling?" I asked._

"_Bad. Everything hurts." He coughed._

"_My poor baby." The door opened to the doctor standing there looking grim. It was either good news or bad news. "I'll be back. I promise." I ruffled his hair a bit. I left the room with the doctor to the hallway. "Is anything wrong?" _

_The doctor sighed. "He has phenomia. It is very severe."_

"_What is that supposed to mean?" I pressed._

"_We're doing everything we can. The procedure that we usually do is very risky. He might be too young. And it's very expensive."_

"_I don't care. Do it."_

"_It's only as a last resort. Things might turn around in a few days. You should get some sleep." He walked away from me like that meant nothing to him. What a dick. I looked through the window of Marty's room. He looked so peaceful._

_I sat in the waiting room with T.J. and Bridgette. They told me she was pregnant yesterday. So bitter sweet. Over the few days Marty had been in the hospital, he had gotten worse. Much worse. No one would tell me what the hell is going on. And I—_

"_CODE BLUE IN ROOM 179A! WE NEED NURSES STAT!" I heard the doctor yelled, as he ran down the hallway with ten medical staff. 179A? That's Marty's room. I jumped from my seat running behind them. I got to the room. I can't see what's going on. Everyone is crowding. About seven people were standing outside the window taking notes._

"_Excuse me what are you doing?" I asked panicked._

"_We're medical students ma'm. Here to observe—" a blonde guy said._

"_The HELL you are! Get away from my son! GO!" they left probably from seeing the screaming mother syndrome. I pushed my way through the room. These so called doctors were doing CPR on Marty. He was so blue. "MARTY? OH MY GOD!"_

_The doctor turned around and stared at me. "Someone, get her out of here!" he yelled. I was grabbed by the arm by some nurse. _

"_You need to leave," She said._

"_THAT'S MY SON! LET ME GO YOU BITCH!" I screamed. I was pushed out the room by two or three nurses at a time. "LET ME GO! MARTY!" I was pushed into T.J.'s arms roughly. I bagged against him to let me go. "TOMMY! THOMAS LET ME GO!" he didn't say anything. I tried to jump from his grasp. He started to pull me away from the scene. It wasn't too long after, that I heard him flat line. I froze him his arms. I stopped fighting. I saw the doctor try to shock him. His chest rose up and down. The flat green line was forever engraved in my mind. Again and again his chest rose and then fell with no changes. I watched one by one, as the nurses left and then the doctor came out._

_He took one look at me and walked away. "YOU BASTARD! YOU DID NOTHING! YOU LET HIM DIE!" I screamed behind him. My throat hurt from so much screaming. My cheeks were hot from the crying and my eyes hurt. "MARTY!" T.J. dragged me halfway down the hallway, full of people staring in awe, before I stopped kicking and screaming. I slumped to the floor. I cried and cried and cried._

"_Shhh, it'll be okay." T.J. whispered. "I'll be there for you."_

_For a good two hours he held me on the hospital floor crying. I knew it wouldn't be okay. I had lost Bruce for the second time. For the second time, I never got to say goodbye. Bruce has to come back. He has to._

I turned a page in Marty's book seeing the last photo we took together. It was at the beach in San Diego earlier the week he passed. He was learning to surf for the first time standing next to a tiny surfboard. If only Bruce knew before he left.

**Please Review! Love and Smiles!**

**Lex**


	4. Chapter 4

**Rachel**

I hung up the phone with Gemma. Something is up with her and I am going to find out what it is. I am such a terrible sister. All these years I had the power to protect her and I did nothing. I watched with grief what was going on. The one person in my life that I loved the most, I let down. Nothing can make up for that. The horrible things I said to her; yelled at her. I would never understand her pain, where it comes from. The loss of a child. It's my fault. All she wanted was to be the mother she didn't have. The least I could do, was give her my blessing.

_Speed walking in the streets of Gotham during rush hour traffic in July isn't the best idea. But because Gemma called and asked me to meet her, I can make an exception. I wonder what she has to tell me. I hope it is good news. I have good news also. My results for the bar exam came in the mail today. I passed. With flying colors I might add. Not only had that happened, but Commissioner Loeb asked Gordon to be lieutenant. Leaving a space open for a detective job. I was asked. And I turned them down. I left the force. I saw Gemma sitting in front of Jitters Coffee at a table on the sidewalk. She had her head down. She took a sip of her coffee, which is more or less hot chocolate. Gemma can't stand coffee. I stopped in front of the table. She lifted her head with a small forced smile. _

"_Hi," she said softly. We hadn't talked in a pretty long time. She was concentrating on graduating high school and I rubbed graduating from Princeton early in her face. I didn't mean to hog the spotlight from her. But my whole life I had been worried about hurting her feelings. What I can and cannot say around her. I wanted to have some attention too._

"_Hi."_

_She motioned me to sit; so I sat. "What's up with you?" she asked. The tone in her voice gave her away. Gemma really didn't want to be here. She doesn't want to talk to me. In her opinion, I'm the last person she wants to have a conversation with._

"_Umm…Loeb asked me to take Gordon's detective position," I said finally. She nodded. She's probably thinking that I always get all the good things in life. Oh how wrong she is. Does she think I'm stupid? Little does she know that I don't have his attention like how she thinks I do. It's always about him. But I for one know that Bruce might love me. But he is not in love with me. He is in love with her. Whether he chooses to acknowledge that or not, isn't on me. Bruce is in denial. I hope he comes back safe from wherever he is._

"_Really? Did you take it?"_

"_No."_

"_Why? I thought you wanted to be a cop for a minute."_

"_I do. But I got my results for the bar today. And I passed." I smiled. She frowned a bit, but it was enough for me to catch it. I thought she would be happy for me._

"_Wow. You really are going to be a lawyer."_

"_Yeah…so what is it you wanted to tell me? Is it important?"_

_Gemma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, making the pink in her locks visible. I remember when she got that streak. All because of an accident that turned out to last three years. She took a deep breath. Her eyes opened with tears in them waiting to fall again._

"_I uh…what I have to tell you is very important. I…I'm pregnant," she cried. The initial shock I felt worsened as I let the news sink in. She gave up her life for five seconds of pleasure. I thought she was different. All of her dreams disappeared in her eyes._

"_How could you let that happen Gemma? Didn't you use a condom? Aren't you on birth control?" I yelled softly. I want to scream and pull my hair out my head._

"_I thought I took my pill. I forgot and missed a few days—"_

"_Days? You missed a few days? Gemma that is so irresponsible!"_

_Her head fell in her hands in defeat. I was too tough on her. She didn't mean to get pregnant. I can't blame her for having sex. "When did you find out?" I asked._

"…_Last month. I'm three months along," she mumbled in her hands._

"_Last month? And you are telling me this now?"_

"_I'm scared Rachel! I don't know what to do!" she shouted. People around us observed what was going on at our table. I hate it when she's like this. But secretly I wanted something disappointing to happen to her. She was on such a high horse. She never had to work for anything. Everyone automatically set my standards. She got everything handed to her. But all the same, I wanted her to need me. So I can have that redemption for when I had to protect her and failed. "Did you tell anyone else?"_

_Gemma reached for a napkin on the table. "No. You're the first. I'm going to tell Alfred later today," she blew her nose._

"_Aren't you going to tell mom and dad?"_

"_When I get around to it."_

"_What are you going to do about college?" she breathed in sharply. Is this going to be another lie on top of another lie? That's all I can expect from her now. Lies. She hardly tells the truth anymore to me._

"_I'm going to try and make it work. I'll take a few months off after the baby is born and then I'll figure something out. But…Rachel I can't stay here."_

"_What do you mean? You're going to Gotham State. What are you doing?"_

"_I got into UCLA also. I'm moving to California. Crystal and Holly are out there. I haven't told them about the baby but I asked if I could stay with them if I switched colleges. And T.J. is in San Diego. I'll start college in the fall after the baby is born in February."_

"_Why move? Who's the father?"_

"_It doesn't matter. He's gone—"_

"_Who is it Gemma?"_

"_I can't risk anyone finding out I'm carrying the next living Wayne. Bruce is nowhere to be found," she said really fast with a whisper. I knew what she said. I wanted her to say the words with all the bullshit._

"_Say that again," I said darkly._

"_It's Bruce's baby."_

_The anger I can feel in my chest bubbled over my soul and how I felt. I'm not mad at the fact she's pregnant anymore. The fact that she's carrying Bruce's baby disgusted me. There was something wrong with it. She trusted him. I trusted him. And what hurts the most, is that this is how I find out he doesn't want me. He couldn't tell me to my face. I hoped I could be able to catch his true attention for the fewest seconds. But this is a slap in the face._

"_It happened when he came back for the trial at the end of April. I didn't stop him. I'm sorry," She pleaded. I can't look at her. Now she took Bruce too. Not surprised. _

"_Are you keeping it?" I don't want her to get rid of it. It's not my baby, so I have no choice in her decision. But I have to know. I have to know if she's really going to do this. On her own too._

"_Yes. I am. This could be the last living Wayne Rachel. I have to."_

_I grabbed her hand across the table. I held it in mine. I can't be sad. I got what I asked for._

I shouldn't have left her like that. Alone, when she needed me most. I don't blame her if she hates me. All she wanted was my acceptance. And I turned her away. Gemma was a great mom. But losing Marty messed her up. More than she already was. I'm to blame for that too.

**Fifteen years ago…**

_I thundered down the stairs with my new found information about the Gotham Police Department. Mom and dad had to know. They can't say 'no' forever. I want to be a cop. A lawyer too. But a cop first. And I will find a way to do it. I made it to the last step. Mom and dad sat in the living room on the couch. TV off. Their voices muddled by their secrecy. I hid behind the wall. I can use my cop skills for practice._

"_Alex we have to tell her. She's our daughter. How can we keep something like this from her?" dad sounded nervous and upset. Tell who what?_

"_She can't know Tina. I'm not having his argument with you again," mom said. Again? What argument?_

"_Gemma needs to know that her mother could possibly still be alive—"_

"_Tina we don't even know where she is. She could have died in the thirteen years we've had her. There is a reason Mena gave her up. A dangerous one at that. Why put her through that? She doesn't need to know. As long as Gemma thinks she is dead she won't go looking for her. Mena said it herself, you and I both there. She said, 'Don't let her look for me.' and then left."_

"_I don't feel right about this. Keeping something of this magnitude from her. We already kept that she was adopted, now this? Tina—"_

_I made this my time to make myself known. I stepped from behind the wall. Dad's face dropped to a sad frown. I can't believe they would do this. To Gemma. She trusted them and they kept this from her. Mom turned around, just as upset to see me._

"_How much did you hear?" Tina asked._

"_Enough. How can you keep this from her? Haven't you noticed how she's changed since she found out Tom is her real father?" I hissed. I didn't mean to say it. No. Yes I did. It wasn't fair to Tom giving dad all the credit. Tom didn't know about Gemma. And sometimes it showed it dad's eyes that he despised having to compete with the blood father._

"_You shut your sixteen year old mouth young lady. He's not her father. He left. I'm taking care of her. He sees her sometimes during the holidays. Two weeks out of the year. Do you think he's sending any money to help?"_

"_This is none of your business Rachel," mom said._

"_She's my sister! How is this none of my business?" I shouted. I wanted Gemma to hear. Then I wouldn't have to tell her and neither would they._

"_Go back upstairs," dad ordered._

"_No," I said, standing my ground. "If he knew that Mena was pregnant, maybe things would be different. I'm telling her."_

"_The hell you are! Rachel she can't know. It will ruin everything."_

"_And not telling her will?" I questioned if our parents where who they really say they are. Good people. Good Christians. How can they do this to her? It's as if they don't really care. She's not a child to them, she's a product. "I'm telling her," I said after our silence._

"_The police academy," was all mom said._

"_What?"_

"_The police academy. I will give you permission for the police academy."_

_I can't say no. But by agreeing, I'm hurting Gemma more than she already is. If I tell her, what if things get worse? Suicidal worse? If I told Gemma there was a possibility—no, that her mother is alive and she goes off looking for her, and can't find her…I would never forgive myself for that pain. How can you find someone who doesn't want to be found? For my own selfish reasons, I kept my mouth shut._

_I opened the door to our room. Gemma hung upside down on her bed, eyes dead open staring blankly in my direction. Odd. I tapped her on the shoulder. She didn't respond. Could she be… "Gemma?" I called. Her chest isn't moving. I checked her neck for a pulse. None. Wrist to double check. None. "Gemmaline this isn't funny!" I blinked to keep from crying. "Gemma." I shook her. She sucked in a breath, blinked her eyes and quickly sat up._

"_Rachel! You startled me," she laughed._

"_It is not funny. You scared the hell out of me! I thought you were dead!" I pushed her back onto the bed. She raised an eyebrow._

"_What are you talking about? I don't remember that happening."_

"_I found you here. You looked like you came out of an exorcism!"_

"_Oh! That! Yeah well, it's this technique people use to cope. It's called dream sleeping. Or is it coma sleep? I don't know, I forgot. But it helps bunches! It's supposed to make your dreams like real life and then you won't forget. I could feel her Rachel. She was right here in this room."_

"_What the hell? Where did you get that nonsense from?"_

"_Dr. Celt on channel five. She said it's mainly for people who lost a loved one. To reconnect."_

"_Dr. Celt got her PhD from a six week course offered in a magazine Gemma! Do you know how dangerous that is? What happens if you don't wake up?"_

"_I don't care. I finally got to see her. That's all that matters to me," she smiled._

_How can I tell her, her mother might be alive now? She hasn't been this happy in months, years. How can I risk that smile that waited so long to be seen, with a story that I don't even know is true? I can't._

**A Week Later…**

_I tore apart Tina and Alex's room searching for Gemma's adoption papers. They have to be here somewhere. I dumped the contents of a sock drawer on the floor. I searched the grey carpet. Nothing. Shit! Where could it be? I did a 360*, checking everything I missed. The painting above the bed spoke to me. Why didn't I see it before? I jumped on the bed. I carefully took the painting from the hook on the wall. A safe revealed itself in the wall. I reached in my pants pocket for a hair pin. I picked the lock. Thank goodness for girl scouts. I heard the dumbbells align. I pulled open the safe's door. At least eight stacks of bills surrounded a couple of boxes and folders. I grabbed the folder I saw. Bingo! Gemma's adoption papers were inside. If Mena didn't die at child birth and is still alive, she had to have signed the papers to give up her rights as mother. And there it was. All I needed. Mena's signature right about mom and dad's._

I made copies of the adoption papers, hoping to tell her one day. But with everything that had happened and Marty…I thought adding that would make it worse. Thinking back, maybe I was wrong for not telling her. If only she knew.

**Please Review! Love and Smiles!**

**Lex :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Please Review! Or I won't update! Maybe…**

**Chapter Five: All You Need Is Love**

**Gemma's POV**

First Class is way better than I thought it would be. Okay, maybe not that better. But I did get breakfast! And I didn't have to pay for it! I looked out the tiny window. Gotham is so peaceful from this side of the airport. You would think it isn't run by mobsters and shady cops. I don't want to go back. I'm scared. I'm scared that I will never leave again. I'm scared everything I ran from will come back ten times worse than it was.

"It seems that another plane is in our gate. Hold on tight folks," the pilot said. I sighed. This is really happening. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to face a handsome stranger. His black curly hair framed his face. He smiled at me.

"You don't sound too happy to be here," he said. Are people reading my mind these days? I shook my head swiftly. He laughed. I laughed too.

"Is it that obvious?" he raised his hand and tilted it side to side.

"Kinda…sorta. A little." His bright blue eyes have a natural sparkle to them I can't resist. I blushed. He held out his hand to me.

"I'm Taylor. Josh Taylor," he said sincerely. I smiled. How very James Bond like of him. I touched his hand with mine.

"Dawes. Gemma Dawes," I echoed.

"Wow. I never thought I would meet you. They're right about what they say." Josh leaned forward on the armrest. I placed my elbow on the armrest next to him.

"Really and what do they say?"

"That you are the most beautiful girl in Gotham."

I blushed again. Josh raised his hand to brush the hair away from my face. To be honest, I thought he was going to say something bad.

"Is that so? You are so bluffing."

I pushed him against his shoulder. It's been a long time since someone told me I'm beautiful. Josh Taylor might not truly mean it the way I want him to, but it does get the job done. The way he said it…reminds me of how Bruce would say those words to me. Now he says those words to other women. I'll always be the forgotten girl no one knows about. The seatbelt sign lit up. Thank god, I am more than willing to get the hell of this plane. I unbuckled my seatbelt. Completely forgetting about Josh Taylor, I sprung from my seat. The flight attendant opened the closet door for me. I grabbed my suitcase and my overnight bag.

"Thank you," I said to the woman. Another flight attendant opened the plane's door. I bolted out of there faster than a jack rabbit.

Gotham hasn't changed much since I left. The airport is still the same. The same god awful seats from the nasty seventies were still intact. I am NOT sitting on those seats knowing what had been done in them. Where do you think all the stains come from? It's not just coffee and juice…juice from somewhere else, if you know what I'm sayin'. My knees buckled together from the cold. Damn Crystal and her persuasive ways. Crystal and Holly J. were saying bye to me at the airport when Crystal had a last minute fashion project.

_Crystal pulled me by the sleeve of my sweatshirt into a bathroom stall. Holly J. followed behind us, disturbed by what Crystal is doing. How does she think I feel? Holly J. squeezed into the small stall pulling in my suitcase. Crystal pushed her out of the way. _

"_Hey! Watch it!" Holly shouted. _

"_Oh get over it," Crystal said snobbishly. She turned to me with her hands on her small hips. _

"_Wh—what?" I stuttered. Crystal pointed to my body. _

"_That outfit has to go. Like for serious, I don't know what the hell you were thinking when you put that on this morning. Do you know what you look like?" _

"_I haven't thought about it, no." _

"_Now is the time you should." Crystal bent over to unzip my suitcase. She roughly pulled out a pair of super short shorts and a white tank top. She threw them at me. _

"_What the hell are you doing Crys? My plane leaves in ten minutes!" I threw the clothes back at her. _

"_You are not leaving this stall until you change. In case the plane goes down, you still want to look hot. The camera adds ten pounds," she said simply. Holly J. slapped Crystal upside the head. _

"_Ow! What the fuck was that for? You bitch!" _

"_Why can't you leave things alone? For god sakes Crystal, she's going on a plane! The girl is already scared of fucking heights you dumb fuck!"_

"_Fuck you Upshaw!" _

"_Guys can we please not do this now?" I fussed. I'm already going to Gotham. I don't need more problems. It is bad enough I have to stay in the same city he's in. Crystal squinted her eyes at me. _

"_Gemmaline-Kenzie Felicity Dawes, you are getting in those shorts, if it's the last thing I do." She lunged at me with her manicured hands._

So here I am standing in a cold fucking airport, don't forget I have to go outside in fifty-five degree weather, wearing booty shorts, a tank top and flip flops. People stared at me like they hadn't seen such a sigh in all their years. IT'S ALL CRYSTAL'S FAULT! I bet she's living it up in my apartment. For the next four months. She better not decorate with anything pink. And Holly J. better send me my mail. All of it. Except my bills. She can keep those. Pay them while she's at it. A hard tap hit my shoulder. Before I could turn to see who it was, I'm grabbed by the waist. Not just anybody did this, but none other than my personal favorite person Josh Taylor. His giant claw like hand felt hot against my back.

"Are you trying to be a stalker now?" I joked. His other hand tangled in with my hair. Roughly I might add.

"I've wanted to do something since I first saw you on that plane," he said. Had he been running?

"What? Josh what are you talking about—" his lips touched faster than I had ever imagined. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I don't know why I did that. Josh picked me up and put me on his feet. I haven't been in Gotham for less than a minute and I'm already kissing this stranger. He could be some kind of serial killer. But I don't care. I'm tired of caring. About life, about everything. Why should I care when I feel like I want to end it all?

**Bruce**

I knew it was her the second she walked out of the door. My god. How much she had changed since I left. More beautiful than ever before. My eyes feel like they're refreshed from seeing her after so long. Her skin shined luminously under the lighting. Her hair fell past her shoulders, dangerously close to the soft curve in her shorts. I had the urge to scream her name. To make things right between us. I set off towards her. I'm not going to let her get away from me this time.

A man walked up behind her. He spun her around. His hands ran through her hair. The mark I left behind on her. It surprises me that she still has it. He kissed her. This…this—frat boy is kissing my Gemma. She had moved on with her life. He doesn't know who he's messing with. Gemma is my girl, not his. Definitely not his. He pulled apart from her and gave her a piece of paper. She waved behind him as he walked away. Her eyes struck me the hardest. Those blue-green orbs drive me crazy. I know Gemma doesn't want to talk to me. But she will.

**Gemma**

Something about Josh Taylor is wrong. I don't know what it is, but it is something very, very bad. Why was he so interested in me all of a sudden? The whole plane ride to Gotham he had the chance to talk to me and he waits until the last ten minutes of the flight. The moment he kissed me, I knew there was something wrong about him. I watched him walk away from me painfully slow. He's on his phone now. Josh turned his head to look at me. He kept walking. Josh doesn't feel right. I can't put my finger on it, but he's not right. The piece of paper he gave me with a phone number on it dangled from my limp hands.

I reached into my pocket and exchanged the piece of paper for my phone. I dialed Rachel's number. I need to get the hell out of this airport. I don't feel comfortable. And when I don't feel comfortable, I know something isn't right. And this airport isn't right. Not now. I searched the crowd for her face. The huge window held a private plane in sight. In front of the window, a man in a dark suit stood with his hands in his pockets. Is that…? It can't be. He turned around. Bruce's eyes caught mine the second I saw him. I backed away, hoping he won't see me anymore. Where the hell is Rachel? I told her two o' clock. She isn't even here. This is bullshit. Maybe she's having hot lawyer sex.

A pair of hands covered my eyes.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—I really have to stop cursing. Can church fix that? I am not getting rebuked though, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

"Oh my sweet Jesus!" I yelled loudly. I dropped my phone. I haven't been in Gotham for two minutes and I'm already getting mugged. This is ridiculous. At least wait till I leave the airport, for goodness sake.

"What do you want? Oh god please don't kill me, I have a life!" I cried.

Gotham Tip #1: Never EVER say to your captor that you have a life. It insinuates that they don't.

"Stop calling me god," the person said. It was a playing tone. I would recognize that voice anywhere. I grabbed Rachel's hands from my face and turned to her. She reached out to pull me for a huge. I patted her bag. It feels strange to hug her knowing how much there is between us that is unresolved. I think she knows it too. We pulled away from each other.

"It's so good to see you Gemma," she said. The smile on Rachel's face hurt me. How can I tell her that I don't want to be here? I can't. It would stop the process of our healing that we're supposed to be doing together.

"It's good to see you too," I pinched the lapel of her grey suit. "When did you start wearing suits?"

"I've always worse suits. You haven't seen me in one."

"Oh." Am I the only one noticing that we have nothing to talk about? Suits, really? This is the usual for us. Before I got pregnant, the arguments we had were meaningless. All about what we wanted to say. So much changed after I had Marty. Our relationship became poison. We have to find a topic simple enough so that we can't have an argument.

Rachel touched my hair. "Wow. Your hair is so long now," she said humbly. She immediately found the pink behind my ear. I saw her frown. "There's that streak again."

My hair grew out since the last visit. I was going to cut it, but Crystal convinced me to grow it out. She said she would shave the rest of it off when I went to bed. I wouldn't be surprised if she did do something like that. I'm used to it now. I kind of like it. I didn't intend on having it being down to my ass. The pink only goes so far. One of the only things I can control by not having control over it. I'm sure both of us know the reason why that streak is still alive.

"Two years changes a lot Rachel."

All I can do is smile faintly. I wish that we'll talk about something other than clothing changes and hair. We're adults and we act like children fighting for mommy and daddy's attention. She thinks I take everything away from her when in truth I only want to be accepted by her. Her opinion means so much to me. Why can't she see that? Rachel put her life on the line as a cop for GCPD everyday caring for strangers. Why can't she have the same feelings towards me? Her own sister.

She can jump in front of a fucking bullet for strangers and lock up drug dealers, but she can't give me the time of day. Does she resent me that much for having Marty? I couldn't abort him. I always wanted to have Bruce's children. Marty was Bruce's baby. I thought having him would change how I felt. And I didn't know if Bruce was going to come back or not. I thought it was my duty to keep the Wayne name alive. Bruce was the only one left. Then Marty changed that. Now Bruce is the only one left. And I paid the price, yet again.

"No matter how much you change, you'll always be my baby sister."

"I'm twenty eight Rach. When am I going to be acknowledged as an adult?"

"Never. My little Gemmdrop."

I'm surprises me she remembers the nickname she had for me. Surprised she wants to call me that. Before I was a selfish bitch. Now I'm her little Gemmdrop again. I wish she would pick a fucking side already. You either love me or hate me. Why can't she say it? Tell me that she despises me. Oh I remember now; she can't. Why? Because she knows I'm prone risk to suicide. Don't think Crystal and Holly J. kept that a secret. Finding me in just _one _my lowest of times with a bloody arm and a kitchen knife in my hand.

Do you think Rachel kept that to herself, oh no. She only told Tina who told Alex, who passed it along to Tom and Cecile, eventually telling T.J., Tessa and Bridgette. Don't forget about Harvey. It baffles me that she didn't tell her co-workers and random strangers on the street. That crap ended me up with an intervention at my own fucking house giving me an ultimatum. I drank myself to rehab. Then therapy was next in line. Rachel is ashamed of me. I'm the family's personal nutcase.

"Gemma. It's good to see you."

I turned at Harvey's voice. Golden Boy held his arms open. I hugged him uncomfortably. It's not that I'm a fan of Gotham's White Knight, but sometimes he gets too touchy. And I notice sometimes that he only does it around me. In those awkward moments between the sister's boyfriend and her sister. But he is a nice guy. I know he'll turn Gotham around.

"It's good to see you too Harvey. I see your cleaning up Gotham. One mob at a time."

I don't agree with how the mob acts, I mean who doesn't. But secretly I don't want Harvey or Rachel to get involved with putting the mob down. I think it's too early for that move right now. And Salvatore Zanebono Maroni doesn't accept apologies to often for fucking up his family. I should know. I'm apart of the Maroni's. SHOCKER! Mena was Uncle Sally's sister. He didn't know she was dead the entire time after she left home. He didn't know she was pregnant with me. When he found me…I felt a connection to not only him, but to my mother. It doesn't matter to me that he's a mobster.

Uncle Sally can be the nicest person sometimes. Of course that niceness is only so much. I wish he would leave the mob. He's really not a bad guy. It's only a job. And he cares about me. I know more about mom that I didn't know before. I might not be able to be seen with him in public, but we talk on the phone all the time. When he's not killing people and doing drive bys. There have been a couple of times when I called him and he was roughing someone up. He didn't have to say the words, I knew. From personal experience.

Uncle Sally always tells me that the mob only knows he has a niece. He only calls me Gemma when he's alone. Any other time I'm Baby Girl. Or whatever nickname he has for me. I can tell he feels robbed. Missing out on so much of my life upsets him. And because I'm Mena's daughter he feels the need to protect me. No idea why, he won't tell me. Hopefully I'll find out soon.

"I have to take all the chance I can get. They are not going down without a good fight—"

"That's enough about work," Rachel said. "Gemma is back in town. We should be celebrating. It's been a while since I've seen a friendly face." She intertwined our arms together. Harvey got the hint she wanted alone time with me. He picked up my suitcase. "I'll be at the car," he said. Rachel and I followed slowly behind him. On my side, a magazine stand had magazines of Bruce Wayne and only Bruce Wayne on the cover. From whom he's dating to how many small business he took over in the past year. It's sickening. The Gotham Gazette in front read:

_Billionaire Bruce Wayne Enters in Major Business Deal._

What the fuck? I mean I know I'm in Gotham of all places but honestly! The man never seems to _not_, claim the front page. Rachel must have caught my stare as we passed. I'm in complete despair of how great his life is. Going out with brainless models every night of the week. While I'm being watched by the F.B.I. Has Wayne ever been told not to leave the country because he's a flight risk? No. Has Wayne ever been told his ex-boyfriend—well girlfriend, is on the F.B.I.'s most wanted list? No.

The women he dates aren't that smart to pull anything off anyway. This shit my life is, is unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. Disaster, after disaster, after god damn disaster. When is my good luck going to come around? Rachel pushed me with the side of her elbow. I tipped over like a teapot. I fell into a salt and water taffy cart parked next to us. I tried to grip the handle to pull myself up, but ended up pushing the cute little cart. Said cute little cart rolled down the small hill of the airport…don't forget about the hundreds of people running to escape its path and to capture it. I sighed and stood up with my gaze finding a very embarrassed stricken Harvey Dent. I held up my hands in surrender.

"Hey, she pushed me." I pointed to Rachel.

"You didn't have to fall all dramatically. And I didn't push you. It was a hard shove." She put her hands on her hips. No matter how much Rachel tries to be an adult, she can't help herself from going back to her childish ways.

"Hard shove my ass! I could have broken my fucking neck thanks to you!"

"Excuse me I'm sorry. It was only a joke. I didn't think you would take it so seriously and fall."

"You thought wrong. You are supposed to be the Princeton grad. I'm sure they tell you to think things through Rachel. It's common sense. On the bright side, the owner of that cart has a Christmas story to share."

Rachel tried to hide her giggles behind her hands. She looped our arms together again. Deep down, I know the Rachel I grew up with is still inside her. When she cared about the relationship we had and didn't waste her time trying to find ways to make me look bad. I know she doesn't do it on purpose; I want to think that she does, but I can't. I leaned my head back finding a T.V. anchored on the ceiling. And who is on said T.V.? Bruce Wayne. Why can't he let his presence be known silently? I mean what the fuck does every person on the planet need to know who you are. A few pure souls can be spared of him. Rachel must have seen the frown on my face.

"I know right? He's everywhere," she said rolling her eyes. I saw the blush she tried to hide cross her cheeks. She still thinks about him. She possibly still loves him. And here I am, still trying to beat out my sister for him. He still makes her blush. He still makes her smile. He still makes her laugh. I'll always be the third wheel in their relationship.

"He seems to not be in your good graces," I pointed out. Is it bad to want them to hate each other? What am I thinking, I course it's bad.

"We don't talk much anymore. Things have changed between us."

"And that's a problem? Seriously, you and Bruce were like the 'IT' couple in high school. Now you don't talk?"

"He changed Gemma plain and simple. There is a distance between us now. A very thick wall that developed after he came back. And we have never been a couple and we will never be a couple."

I reached for her hand and squeezed it. I know Rachel is hurting. This is what I wanted all along. Now that I have it, it doesn't feel good. Maybe it's because Bruce doesn't want me either. He never wanted me. He wants Wednesday night whore, Friday night slut. I can't be a whore or a slut and I can't be Rachel. That's what he wants. Truly wants. Another Rachel. A Rachel. Rachel. I can't be that. I'll never be that.

"So…when are you going to tell him?" Rachel's voice prodded itself back into my mind.

"Tell who what?"

"Tell Bruce that you are in love with him."

Rachel stopped walking and so did I. I opened my mouth waiting for the words to come out. Come on words, I'm waiting. None came out, so I closed my mouth. Damn you brain! Truth is I can't love him anymore, no matter how much I want to. I can't love period. All my love had been shattered when he left and killed when Marty passed. Bruce broke my heart into a gazillion pieces when he was reported dead. And my ability to love someone in general had gone from a gazillion pieces to a gazillion pieces that had been crushed even more and spit on when I met Chase. I am broken beyond repair.

I am emotionally and physically spent that if one more heartbreak will kill me. And Bruce is notable for being a heartbreaker. A piece of me died, when he left, why can't Rachel understand that? I wasn't myself for years. And then Chase came in and picked up the pieces. He made me feel like there is someone other than Bruce that can love me. He told me he loved me. And he shattered me again into more pieces to where my heart was incapable of healing. I am in love with Bruce; I still am from the bottom of my broken heart and soul I had left of my being. I can't put myself through that again. So the answer to her question is…no.

"No Rachel I can't."

"Why not? You love him, I know you do. And he loves you."

"Because I don't Rachel, I can't. Don't you get it? I can't love anyone and I certainly can't love him. After Marty…I don't want to be in the same room with him."

"When does the Gemmzie I know give up?" Rachel's eyes are like tow giant pools of curiosity.

"When her feelings aren't reciprocated back. He doesn't love me Rachel. He doesn't want me to be a Wayne. He loves ass he can fuck today drop tomorrow."

"You are delusional. I know for a fact he does." I closed my eyes. What annoys me the most about Rachel is that when she wants to know something she won't quit until she gets the answer she wants. Screw the answer she gets, it won't be the answer she wants.

"What happened in L.A.? You don't act like you anymore. Since when do you not love Bruce?" Rachel pushed.

"Rach, I just got back today. Please don't," I pleaded with her. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay Gemma."

Rachel dragged me out of the airport to where Harvey's car waited. I got in the backseat.

"Harvey I'm surprised you haven't bought some kind of chick magnet."

His eyes found mine in the rearview mirror.

"This isn't a chick magnet?"

"If you consider soccer mom ass hot," I said to get Rachel mad. She's lucky I didn't tell him about the conversation we had about him. His eye's never left me. Rachel slapped him on the arm.

"Are you okay? You spaced out a bit." She pushed his hair back.

"Yeah I'm fine. A little nervous about the trial, that's all." Harvey pulled the car away from the curb. That was his bullshit response. He doesn't have the heart to tell her he was looking at me. I take pride in that Harvey was looking at me. Not because I want him to, but because it proves to myself that Rachel doesn't get everything that she wants. I am so fucked up. Why do I want for that to happen? That's like asking for her to hate me more. But if she hates me for taking something away…I feel better. And I don't want to feel like that. But I do.

Traffic in Gotham is a real bitch. Possibly worse than Los Angeles traffic. Twenty minutes on the freeway in the same spot. Not moving one lick. Not to mention the looks that Harvey keeps on giving me. I try not to look his way, I really do. How can you stop yourself from looking at someone who's looking at you? Harvey is a man that knows what he wants. He wants Rachel. There; she has two men that fall at her feet. My phone rang. I took it out of my pocket. Jay Parkman. His assistant must be calling me. Jay can never call himself. It's too much work. Monroe Fitzgerald is his new assistant. She's tall five foot eleven busty bleach blonde porn star look alike. Don't underestimate her because she is a model. However, Monroe is super genius smart. And best of all she gives me the free clothes from photo shoots. I doubt the stuff is free but I'm not complaining.

"Hey Monroe." I pushed some hair out of my face.

"Why does everyone think I always have Monroe do all my work?" Jay asked. I don't know maybe it's because you always have her do your work. That's my final answer.

"Because you do. What is it now Jay? Any news can't be any worse than 'You're moving to Gotham.'."

"I wanted to let you know that your car is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. I picked it out myself in the best model they had." He actually sounded proud. Well I would to if I finally did something on my own.

"Ooh! Monroe didn't have to do that?"

"I can do things myself Ms. Dawes. Besides you wanted it, I just used your money to pay for it."

"Then it's not a gift if the person who is receiving it has to pay a car note." Jay quieted his mouth. It's not good if he's quiet. "I'm only saying. What else is there for me to know?"

"You need to go to a business party in the Palisades at the Florin Manor on Wednesday night at eight o' clock PM. It's formal. You need to represent the firm in L.A. because I won't be able to make it."

"Why not?"

"Imagine me in Gotham. Not a pretty sight."

"The apartment should be ready in about a week. No need to worry; I only do the best for Parkman employees. You should be getting a phone call soon."

"Great where is it?"

"Wayne Tower."

That is all Jay needs to say. Well, this brings my whole fucking world down. I leaned my head forward on the passenger seat and pressed until my head hurt. Of course Wayne Tower is the best place to stay in town. Why didn't I realize that? "Does it have to be there?" I whined. Harvey and Rachel laughed. This isn't funny. Jay hung up on me. I can't believe this. The guy sends me to Gotham and leaves me here! This is great. PERFECT. I hope he's happy. He has to deal with me when I get back.

"What happened?" Rachel asked.

"My car is showing up tomorrow. So you don't have to drive me around." I lifted my head from the seat. It hurts now. That was a dumb idea.

"That sounds great, because we need to leave _early_ for court the next few days." Rachel coughed. I guess they haven't been on time to work for a while. Miss Perfect ain't so perfect anymore.

"I have to go to this stupid business party a Florin Manor."

That name sounds familiar. Florin…oh! Florin is the name of the manor that's a few miles away from Wayne Manor…where it used to stand before that prick burnt it down. It's a Gotham landmark that was used for the haunted mansion for Halloween. I am not going back in there. The committee that decorated the manor didn't really have to decorate. Eerie.

"We're supposed to go to that too." Of course Rachel is going. She is the A.D.A.

"Really? For what?" Harvey asked.

"It's for some knowing who is in Gotham kind of thing. Like the leaders,"

"Anyway, my apartment should be ready in about two weeks. So I don't have to live wit you. Once you live with someone for sixteen years, that's enough for a lifetime. No offense Rachel." She turned around and stuck her tongue at me. I stuck mine out too.

"That's great," Harvey said.

"No it's not. Guess where it is?" I moaned. I take their silence as wanting to know. "Wayne Tower."

"I heard those apartments are pretty swanky."

"Not when you have to be in the same building as that egotistical dickhead. Oh that reminds me; Rachel, you didn't tell him I was coming did you?"

I pray to god she didn't. The last thing I need is for that stupid ass to come knocking on my door. I want to get out of here as soon as possible so I can go home. Eleven years without a word from a person brings out a lot of emotions. I can't help but think that's my fault too. I should have answered the phone when he called. It doesn't matter now does it? Rachel sighed hard.

"No I didn't. But you can't keep avoiding him forever Gemma. You are bound to eventually bump into him; it's only a matter of time. What happens if you run into him at that party on Wednesday? I'm sure he'll be there."

"I'd like to make sure I don't see him. He won't be at the party. Supposedly this party is for the people who contribute and give a damn about the city."

I hadn't realized that we were approaching Harvey and Rachel's street. Harvey turned onto the street they lived on. It was a nice community of town houses. With actual small front lawns. I saw their gray house with the red front door. The lawn had a little flower garden near the windows that was wrought by a black iron fence. A cement pathway split the grass down the middle leading to steps to the front door.

I opened the car door and stared at the gorgeous house. I wish I could live in a house like this. With someone that loved me. She has a loving boyfriend, an actual house with a yard. Next thing you know, they'll have a golden retriever and a two year old kid.

"Look Harvey, you can have a dog! And little Rachel's and Harvey's running around, pretending to be little D.A's." I hinted. I turned around to see Harvey and Rachel getting out of the car.

"Maybe some day when we have the time; but we're not even married yet." Rachel said, making her way to the trunk. She took out my suitcase and settled it on the ground. Harvey made his way over to me. I elbowed him in the ribs.

"That hurt you know." He rubbed his ribs.

"I know you want to ask her." Harvey's face became flooded with dread. "You have my approval." I tried to make him calm down. He was really starting to lose it.

"Are you sure?" he asked me.

"Yeah, you're a good man Harvey. I trust you. What you're doing with the city takes balls." And it did. Gotham isn't a place for the soft.

"I'm glad to have your support Gemm." He bent down to hug me.

"I'm not the only one. Look here she comes. Act natural." I was so giddy about knowing this secret. If only I could find this happiness.

"You two look up to something." Rachel handed me my bags.

"Me? Him? We? Us? Naw! No way! Get out of town!" I waved my hand in front of my face. She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Are we up to anything Harvey?"

"No Gemma we aren't." he played along.

"I'll figure it out you know." Rachel walked into the house. I picked up my carry-on bag and suitcase and followed Harvey into the house.

"No you won't." I chirped. I set my bags down by the couch in their living room. They had a Samsung TV that was surrounded by a cream colored couch and two matching chairs.

"Gemma, you can be here I few hours by yourself right?" Rachel picked up her briefcase.

"I don't know Rach can I? I mean I'm only 28 years old." I said sarcastically.

"Ha-ha. But Harvey and I need to go back to the courthouse. We all know how Gotham is."

"That's fine; I don't start work till tomorrow anyway. I'll be fine." I yawned. Man jetlag hits you good.

"Perfect. Harvey! We need to go! There's food in the fridge incase you get hungry." Rachel shouted to wherever he was. "I'm right here." Harvey came form the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Okay, we need to go. Bye Gemm." Rachel unlocked the front door and walked outside.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Harvey picked up his briefcase and files he had on the coffee table.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Go have fun at your trial. With all the convicts…"

"Okay, we'll be back around five or six. That's not a promise." Harvey laughed.

"You're going to be late." I said to him. Harvey was out the door in a flash. I looked around their humble abode. The smell from the kitchen awakened me from my daze of sleepiness. I waltzed to the kitchen and picked up the steaming coffee pot. It smelled like vanilla; my favorite. I took out a cup from the cabinet and poured some.

"I can't believe I've been dragged back here." I leaned my head back feeling the tears start to drown me in my own sorrow. It was bitter sweet coming to Gotham.

Being in Gotham I can finally escape from the last eleven years of my life I want so much to forget. I'd give up anything, just to redo it all. I finally realized I was crying when a sob escaped from my throat. I felt two lonely tears slid down cheek. I wiped them away and sniffed my nose. I didn't know why I was crying. Maybe because I wasn't ready to face the reason I left Gotham. One is being Bruce Wayne. Or the reasons why I was kind of grateful leaving L.A. reasons that I didn't want to talk to anyone about. Not just yet. All of them seem to involve Chase.

When I still lived here, Bruce was the one person I could confide in without getting judged. It was like we understood each other more than what the story was about.

_'There's always a reason.'_ We would say to each other. When we talked, it was as if nothing else existed. I know that sounds cheesy, but it was true. I got to admit; the man knew how to break a heart. Got in my pants; _took my_ _virginity_ for Pete's sake, and then left without a trace. For _seven_years. For most of those seven fucking years I was depressed thinking that he was dead trying to put the pieces of my life back together. And then he just shows up, hoping that everything would have stayed the same. Well it wasn't. I went through hell and back. No one understood. No one understood why I needed a restraining order from Chase. I wish I could just tell Rachel why. But I can't. Not yet anyway. I set the cup of coffee back on the counter. If I remember correctly the utensils drawer should be right below the coffee pot. I opened the drawer and picked out a knife. I slowly rubbed it across my wrist wondering if I could really do it this time.

But then…I think about my family. Rachel, my two sets of parents, T.J, Tessa, Crystal, Holly J, Harvey, even Monroe and Jay and the rest of my co-workers. These people I trust more than anyone else. Except Drew, he's the last person to trust. I sighed and started to put the knife back in its drawer, but the blade brushed against my arm. I didn't even feel it. There was blood on the knife and blood coming from my forearm. I walked to the sink and washed the knife with hot water and soap. I dried it off and placed it back into the drawer. I reached for a paper towel and placed it on the cut. Why do cuts hurt after they're made? The bleeding stopped after a couple of minutes. I walked back to the living room. I tipped over my suitcase and opened it. I pulled out a box of band-aids, pair of black spandex shorts, and a pink sports bra. I'm going for a run.

But not before I put these SpongeBob Squarepants band-aids on.

**Everyone Please Review! Don't I get some reviews for updating twice last week? :) Don't make Alfred curse!**


	6. Chapter 6

**It feels like it's been a long time. Thanks to people that left a review and all that other good stuff. Hope you like this new chapter! Super Thanks to my beta! And everyone please review!**

**Chapter Six: Lamborghinis and Billionaires Are a Deadly Combination**

When I run, I feel I break away from the familiar. Every little problem or thought I have becomes stored in a secret place in my mind for later. To deal with it when I'm not acting like the criminally insane. I can control my thoughts. Think about one at a time clearly. I always ran during my lunch break back in L.A. My shrink suggested I try it as an experimental exercise. More like so I have something to do other than thinking about killing myself. But none the less, it's something to take my mind off of what I'm going through. I ran down sidewalk of Thirty-Fifth Avenue listening to my 'Running' playlist on my Ipod. It only has three songs: _Behind These Hazel Eyes _by Kelly Clarkson, _Human Nature _by Michael Jackson and _Don't Forget _by Demi Lovato. Now, I know what you're thinking; _why are you listening to a Demi Lovato song? Aren't you like thirty years old? _

First of all, I am no where near thirty years old. I'm in my late twenties thank you very much. Second of all, it is a good song. It reminds me of my ever so brief relationship with Bruce. I want to forget about what we had, but my shrink said that using a song to think about it will help me cope better. She also said that if I celebrate Marty's birthday regularly that would help too. I don't see how because all I do is cry all fucking day long. God forbid if I open the drapes to let the sun touch my skin. All of that is bullshit. How can I move on from Marty's memory when I celebrate his birthday and buy myself Mother's Day cards? I'm tired of crying.

I stopped running on the corner of Chestnut Street and Cliff Parkway. I pulled out my black hair tie from my hair. I held it in front of my face and sighed. Pink hair got pulled out. Fuck. Why can't I cover up those streaks? What's stopping me? Oh I remember now; I wanted to keep a piece of Bruce with me to remind myself of the good times we had together. This streak causes me more headache now than it did before. When I look in the mirror I see that mark of his that won't go away. It's always there. I always see it. The Halloween of 97 became a milestone for me. And for my hair.

_Halloween 1997_

_I paced patiently across the living room. Bruce was supposed to be here then minutes ago. Where the fuck is he? He can't do anything I ask him to. How simple was this assignment? Go to the drug store. Buy more hair dye. How simple does it get than that? I chewed the skin on my lip. A nasty habit of mine. At least I don't smoke. Mmhmm, Rachel. The door opened. Bruce walked through the door carrying a plastic bag. I snatched it from him. _

"_I don't get a thank you?" he huffed. He snatched the bag from me. _

"_Not when your ten minutes late," I said. I grabbed the bag._

"_I didn't know which one to get."_

"_How can you not know which one to get? The color is pink! It's not that hard to miss." I ran up the stairs excited for my new look._

"_Fine. But you owe me $28.97!"_

_The Next Week…_

_I screamed. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed. I held my wet hair in my fingers tightly. How could this have happened? Rachel flung the door open of our bathroom. _

"_What the hell is wrong? Why are you screaming?" she yelled. _

"_Look at my fucking hair Rachel! He did this to me! OH MY GOD!" I pushed my hair in Rachel's hands. She laughed. "IT"S NOT FUNNY!" _

"_It so is! Don't be so upset. It's only temporary." _

"_That dumbass bought permanent! Here look at the box!" I picked up the box from underneath the sink. I shoved it to her. _

_Rachel read the box smiling evilly. "Why did you trust Bruce to get the right thing? You know he doesn't know what he's doing when it comes to shit like this." _

"_I thought he could do this one little thing for me! Now here I am with PINK FUCKING HAIR!" _

"_Oh relax Gemmdrop. It's only a small streak. It's really cute." _

"_BRUCE!" I screamed. In a matter of seconds, he came running through the bathroom door. He pushed Rachel out of the way. I could see her behind Bruce. The expression on her face looked angry. She left. What is that about?_

"_What's wrong?" he asked._

"_Look at what you did to my hair!"_

"_What are you talking about?"_

_I reached behind me to grab my new pink coloring. "What is this, HMMM?" _

_Bruce can't take his eyes off of my hair. He laughed. Why is this funny? He gripped his stomach as he laughed harder. "You're mad because of your hair? Seriously?" _

"_Yeah, seriously," I copied his tone. "You got the wrong fucking dye smart one." _

"_What are you talking about? I got you pink dye." _

"_I asked for temporary dye. You bought permanent." _

"_Oh…" _

"_That's all you have to say? I hate you! GET OUT!" I pushed him out the bathroom while he laughed his ass off. _

"_You still owe me $28.97!" he yelled down the hall. I picked up the peroxide bottle. I went into the hallway. "Gemma what are you doing?" Bruce held up his hands in defense. I threw the bottle at him. It made contact with his eye. _

"_Oh shit."_

I don't know how many times I apologized to him that day. Bruce ended up going to the hospital. He had to wear an eye patch for two weeks. He couldn't do anything on his own. Maybe I shouldn't have thrown a bottle with a giant point on it. But he ruined my hair. He's lucky I didn't throw anything else at him. He did look kind of cute with an eye patch. And he didn't really remind me that I still owe him $28.97.

I stopped running at the corner on Chestnut to catch my breath. I stretched my legs out. My gaze was caught down the street. Oh fuck. I silently cursed to myself inside, while I screamed an unknown list of profanities under my breath with by passers staring at me like I'm some serial killer lunatic out of the Looney Bin. I am such a curse-aholic. Currently, I'm up the street from Wayne Enterprises. Shit. I don't need this right now. Can it possibly get any worse from this point? I am already in the same city he is. I am going to be living in the same building he is. Now I have to be up the street from his company? What's next, bumping into him? Having tea parties and sleepovers? Already did that. Look what happened, I end up pregnant at seventeen. I can't let this asshole get to me. Fuck that.

"Gemmzie?"

I turned my head. A tall figure not to far away. I quickly turned around. Who is that? It can't be Bruce. The guy looks blonde. He seems to think he knows me. It can't be Chase; he's probably half way to Mexico by now. I want to leave my spot. I can't find the power to move my feet. Brain, please listen; now is a good time to tell my ignorant feet to move. I peeked over my shoulder. The guy is even closer now. Shit! Brain! Please move these damn feet. This is not an order it's a command. I peeked over my shoulder once more. Crap! Fuck my life.

**GOTHAM TIP #2: **If you have a bad feeling about what's going on…GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY. And for the love of god, please, please DON'T FALL.

"Gemmzie? Is it really you?"

I sighed. I'm caught red handed. I spun on my heels. I smiled.

Sam Macpherson.

One thing I have to say is that at least it's not Wayne. The guy is a complete—

"Gemma. It is you," he said.

Sam Macpherson hasn't changed since high school at all. Still the prince charming as ever. He still has that golden boy appeal about him. Those sun kissed locks of hair, his pearl white smile, and those glistening green eyes. I focused on his nose since his eyes always distract me. Sam took it upon himself to have physical contact with me. He pulled me into a hug. Sam's strong arms wrapped me up like wrapping paper on a box. He smells like very expensive cologne. I can feel his six pack abs on my stomach. They're more defined and stronger than I remember. We left our embrace and I took a good look at him. He's wearing a white button down shirt, leaving the first few undone not leaving anything to my imagination. His matching black—possibly Armani—suit completed his new found look. I smiled again.

"Sam. Umm…how are you?" I asked him. It's good to see Sam after so long. He was one of the few people that never treated me like I was any different back then. He's one to the few people that I trust and can count on.

"I'm good. I didn't know you still lived in Gotham," he said. He smiled that signature smile that I fell for back then.

"I don't. I moved to L.A. for college. I just got back today. Actually, I'm in town for business for a few months. I'm an architect." I stretched my arm across my chest. Sam was known for being a chest man. And I basically have my cleavage spilling over a bra for him. But I do have a pretty good rack if I say so myself.

"I thought you wanted to be a zoologist."

"Some things change."

"That's great. I'm a brain surgeon. Who would have thought I would be anything other than a football player? You know…you haven't changed one bit Gemmaline Dawes. Those same ocean green eyes."

"Some say they are greenish-blue."

"Beautiful as always…" he eyed me up and down. I cleared my throat. I don't want to say I feel uncomfortable, but Sam has a way about him that can be pure sexuality sometimes. Like right now.

"So do you live in Gotham?" I asked changing the subject.

"No, I went to the University of Florida. I decided to live down there permanently. You went to UCLA right?"

"Yeah, I loved it so much I decided to…" Sam can't know anything. "To stay down there too." I smiled shyly at that last statement.

"That's great. I knew you'd achieve your dreams. Have you seen Wayne yet?" Ahh, one way to ruin a most delightful conversation.

"No I haven't. I don't care too much for him anymore," I mumbled to the ground.

"Neither have I. Maybe we can make amends. Bruce and I. We didn't leave on a good foot."

"I don't think anybody did Sam. He has a way of breaking off relationships."

Sam nodded. He grabbed my phone from the band on my arm. He pushed some buttons. It annoys me when people think that their phone number is welcome in my phone. Sam didn't ask. He doesn't ask for much anyway, he just does things.

"I put my number in your phone. If you want to go out sometime. To catch up. I need to head over to the hospital." He put my phone back in the band.

"Thank you Sam. It was nice seeing you."

"Nice seeing you too."

I waved and watched him cross over to the street that holds horrid Wayne Enterprises. Wow. Sometimes I regret braking up with Sam. I think about all the things that could have happened if we stayed together. But then I also know that it would have been boring with Sam. Not like how it was with Bruce. With Bruce, we both knew what we wanted. We wanted to be in love with each other. I can't expect that from him anymore. Our relationship was too much for him. With Sam I know what is there between us. Unlike Bruce, Sam never forgot about our friendship. And seeing Sam now, I feel like I can have some kind of hope. A new start. It won't hurt to hang out with Sam again. It might kill me, but it won't hurt me.

I put my music back on play and ran to the corner of 35th and Mission to go home. Well, back to Rachel and Harvey's house.

**Bruce's POV**

I picked up my phone from the dashboard of my car. I can't take the constant ringing anymore. I know its Alfred. I don't really want to talk to him right now. Not when I'm this angry. After seeing Gemmaline for the first time in ten years…and then to see her kissing some other man…it was too much for me. I had to get out of there. Alfred and I went back to the penthouse where I took off in my car. Alfred knows not to mess with me some days. However, I know that he means well.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Master Wayne. I know you are upset right now. But running away isn't going to solve anything," Alfred said. He's right. Running away from this issue won't make anything better. I already ran out once. "I know that Alfred. It's just so disturbing that she's back. Rachel never told me."

"Master Wayne, Miss Gemmaline had a life back in Los Angeles. We both agree, yes?"

"Yes. But that boy had his hands all over her. It was sickening."

I drove around a minivan stopped at a crosswalk. What is up with these drivers today? The moon must be full tonight. I switched the phone to the other hand. I felt the front of my car hit something hard. A woman's body hit the windshield, cracking it. I slammed the brakes. Her body fell off into the street. Oh shit.

**Gemma's POV**

Pain. All I feel is pain. From my heads down to my toes. Throbbing everywhere. I turned on to my side. My vision is so blurry. People are running over to me. I was flipped over onto my back. How familiar. A light shone in my eye. I think I'm seeing birds.

"Miss! Can you hear me?" a woman asks.

"Can you stop yelling!" I shout.

"Okay she seems to be stable," the woman says.

I blinked my eyes. The world is clear now. The woman's name tag read Melinda.

"Gemma! Is she okay?" I heard another voice say. Who is that?

"Mr. Wayne you need to step away. The police will be dealing with you soon enough," Melinda said.

The crowd erupted in cheer. Hold up, wait a minute. Did Melinda just say Wayne? As in W.A.Y.N.E.? That's what I'm thinking too. Oh hell to the no. I pushed Melinda off of me. I turned behind me to see Bruce Wayne standing behind two cops. I gave him the evil eye. He gave me those brown eyes of his. Oh no, I'm not falling for it this time. No sir. I stood on my feet. The police blocked off the whole intersection. I walked over to the two cops. I tapped them both on the shoulder. A man turned around with a woman next to him who I immediately recognize as Anna Ramirez. The officer's nametag read Berg.

"Hi Gemma. How unfortunate to see you right now. Are you okay?" she asked.

"No I'm fine. Just a little bruising. I've had a lot worse than this trust me. Can I get past you for a sec?"

"Miss I can't authorize that." Berg said. I pushed them both out of the way. Bruce widened his eyes.

"Gemma I—" I stopped him from saying whatever bullshit excuse he was going to say. How? I punched him square in the face. And I don't care.

"That's for everything," I said to him seething.

Melinda pulled me away from him. She brought me over to the ambulance. She forcefully sat me down. I saw Bruce stalking over to us.

"Get him the hell away from me!" I yelled.

"I'm so sorry Gemma. I didn't see you. I should have been more careful," he pleaded.

"No shit Sherlock."

Melinda rubbed something on my forehead. "Mr. Wayne, I advise you to go find something else to do."

"Gemma—"

"YOU HIT ME WITH YOUR FUCKING CAR!" I screamed. "STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME BRUCE! I SWEAR TO GOD! IF YOU TAKE ONE STEP TOWARD ME I WILL TEAR OFF YOUR SMALL PENIS, PUT IT IN A FUCKING BLENDER, AND FORCE FEED IT TO YOU ON A SILVER FUCKING PLATTER!" I can't breath. I can't think. So many things are running through my mind right now.

"Small?" he repeated. I think the crowd enjoys watching Bruce Wayne finally getting a piece of someone's mind.

"Miss, can you calm down? Please?" Melinda said holding my hands to my legs.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? HOW CAN I CALM DOWN WHEN THIS DICKHEAD HIT ME WITH HIS FUCKING CAR? AND YOU EXPECT ME TO BE CALM?" I gave the look of death to Bruce.

"Gemma I'm so sorry," he looked at me with hurt eyes. "I didn't see you."

"THE HELL YOU DID!" I started to hyperventilate. From this whole situation, I completely forgot I have asthma. And my inhaler is nowhere to be seen. How can I be so fucking stupid? It feels like the air was sucked from my lungs.

"She's having an asthma attack!" Melinda yelled.

"I'm fine really!"

Melinda put an oxygen mask over my face. A man from behind lifted me onto the stretcher. "You know her?" obviously this question is for Bruce. I rolled my eyes. Someone put a really soft blanket over my shoulders.

"Yes," Bruce answered.

I took off my mask and yelled, "THE HELL YOU DO!"

"Miss you are going to need to keep that on. You can possibly have a concussion. And you just had a minor asthma attack," Melinda said. She took out a piece of paper on a clipboard.

"She's unstable right now so, we're going to need you to give us any information you know Mr. Wayne."

"UNSTABLE? IT'S HIS FUCKING FAULT!" I shouted. Why isn't anyone listening to me?

"Her name is Gemma Dawes. Born May 24th, 1982," he said. I'm shocked he didn't forget the basics. He remembered my birthday. Way more than I expected from him with an I.Q. of fifty-seven. We all have our smart moments.

"Is she allergic to anything?"

"Pineapple, fish, dust, and pollen. She has asthma. You probably know that already."

"Thank you Mr. Wayne that's all we need to know for now." Melinda put the clipboard back on the ambulance floor. He looked insulted because he can't give her my life story.

"Gemmzie, what are you doing here? Rachel didn't tell me you were visiting." Bruce reached down to me and pushed the hair in my face away. I pushed him back.

"Don't touch me," I ordered him.

"Gemma—"

"Look Bruce. I don't need your help! I told her not to tell you because I didn't want you to know I was here. That's my business not yours. I just want to get in, get out and leave as soon as possible." I said. I took off the oxygen mask and stood up.

"I'm fine. Thanks for your help, but I'm going home." No more than I took one step I felt dizzy. Bruce wrapped his arms around my waist to keep me from falling. I pushed him away. "Get your hands off me."

"Okay Gemma." I didn't know why he was being so calm when I went berserk on him. He just took it.

"Miss your going to have to go to the hospital." Melinda grabbed me out of Bruce's arms. Thank god. For getting me any from him, not the hospital part.

"What? Why?" I yelled.

"Procedure."

"You have got to be kidding me?" I tried to yank my hand away but this asshole was to strong. He got in beside me and Melinda got in after him. She closed one of the doors. "YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS WAYNE! IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!" I said louder than heaven itself. Melinda shut the other door while I cursed the ground Bruce Wayne walks on. Then it took a turn for the worse. Man I am going to hell for all those curse words.

_The lake behind Wayne Manor is the best place to clear my thoughts. The grass is soft, the trees are quiet and the water is calming. And given my situation right now, I have a lot to think about. For one, I'm going overseas tomorrow. Mena's family want to have me spend a whole summer with them. It's strange though. Rachel told me a few months ago that Tina and Alex were looking into finding Mena's family. They never worried about them before. It was never a conversation I thought would come up. However, I'm scared. What if they don't like me? What if they don't want me? What if I can't find that acceptance with them I can't find here? All of this to think about and I still want to go. I have to go._

_I have three families now. Dad and Cecile, Tina and Alex and Mena's if I'm lucky. There are so many answers that need to be answered by this trip. Who I am will be decided by this one trip. That's the only welcoming feeling about this whole thing. I ran my feet through the damp grass. What if…they want another Rachel? What if mom was another Rachel? God, why does Rachel take every happy feeling away from me? She's everywhere. The last thing I want is to be reminded that I'm not Rachel. Again._

"_Aren't you cold out here?"_

_I turned my head. Bruce stood on the dirt path. His hands permanently glued to the inside of his pockets. And that crooked smile. He stepped slowly down the hill. I turned away. I've never been alone with Bruce before. Let me take that back—I've never been alone with Bruce before where we were absolutely alone. He sat down on the grass patch next to me. We sat in silence watching the moon shine on the water. The crickets speak what we can't say to each other. Whatever we have to say. Bruce inched his fingers over to mine on the grass. The feeling of his fingers touching mine sent electricity through my veins. The feeling is more than words can spell out. He took his hand in mine. Bruce's hand fit mine, though his is significantly bigger than mine. I fell right in place with him. Bruce scooted over to me._

"_Come here," he said. _

_My eyes widened with his words. They way he said them, it sounds so sultry. And seductive. I looked in his eyes. I can't find the Bruce I once knew. Instead, he had more dark emotions. I crawled on my hands and knees, pacing myself. Until he picked me up and sat me down between his legs. It's strange having his crotch pressed against my back. I don't know what I feel exactly, but I like it. It feels amazingly painful. Bruce's hands gently touched my skin with his burning fingers, giving me goose bumps. He leaned forward to rest his chin on my shoulder. _

"_What are you thinking about?" he asked softly. His lips made contact with the space between my neck and my shoulder. I gasped. _

"_Nothing. I'm not thinking anything," I answered him. His hand ran its way up my bare leg to the hem of my shorts. He massaged the inside of my thigh. I laid my hand down on his. _

"_I know when you aren't telling me the truth Gemma."_

"_Oh, and now is a time when I'm not?" _

"_Yes. Are you scared about tomorrow?" _

"_Yes. There are so many things going on in my mind right now Bruce. What if they don't like me? Or don't want me? Then what am I supposed to do? This can be my first chance at a real family Bruce." _

"_Gemma, if you keep thinking like that, you are going to worry yourself sick." _

"_Too late. I already threw up twice this afternoon." _

"_Should I be worried?" _

"_No. I had some crackers. So I should be fine. But I can't stop thinking I might do something wrong." Bruce grabbed my hands in his. He held them tight. _

"_You are the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on. Inside and out. If they don't like you, I'll give them a piece of my mind. They'll miss out on the best thing to walk in their life." _

"_You're just saying that." _

"_No I'm not." Bruce touched my cheek. "Do you know how much you mean to me? You are one of the most important people in my life Gemma. Never forget that." I pulled out from his legs. I stood up and pulled my shirt over my head revealing my pink bra. I undid my shorts and pulled those down as well. Clad in my underwear, I took a stance in front of Bruce with my hands on my hips. _

"_Come on, let's go for a dip," I ordered him. _

_Bruce frowned and then smiled. "A dip? You mean like skinny dipping?" _

"_I'm not naked. Come on." I put my foot in the water. Step by step, I went deeper into the dark. I dived in the water. I feel at home. One place where I feel at home is in the water. Not anything Little Mermaid like. I feel a connection back to dad. He's the one that taught me how to surf. I haven't seen him in so long. T.J. is lucky he got to grow up with him. I broke the surface. I floated on my back for what seemed to be forever. A huge figure floated over to me. Bruce only wore his silk boxers. His chest exposed to me. I want to lick it…and play with his chest hair. I'm so weird. _

"_You know you're wearing silk. Right?" _

"_I don't care. Do you know how many pairs of silk underwear I have?" _

"_No."_

"_Neither do I." _

_I know for a fact that the question I'm about to ask Bruce is touchy. It will either push him away or…push him further away than I think. I need to know. _

"_Do you ever…miss them?" I heard him sigh. He doesn't want to talk about it. "I know how you feel Bruce. I feel the same way." _

"_No you don't. I watched them die Gemma. Nothing I do can take that back. no matter how good I am, they aren't going to show up on my doorstep." _

"_Well then can I tell you a secret?" _

"_It won't be a secret if you tell me." _

"_Then I need to tell you something." _

"_Shoot." _

"_I think about her. All the time. She's in my dreams. I…sometimes I feel that she's alive. It's only a feeling. But it's so real. I see allusions of her everywhere. And I know I might be going crazy, but I don't want to stop them. If I do, I'm scared she might disappear from me again." _

"_She's gone Gemma. I'm sorry to tell you this; no allusion is going to bring her back. Believe me, it only gets worse."_

…_._

"_You want to go back?" I asked him. I don't know how long we floated in the water, but it was long enough. Both of us are tired of talking._

"_Sure," he said. I swam over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck from behind with my legs around his waist. "Aren't you the little sneakster," he laughed. _

"_I try to be." _

_Bruce doggy paddled back to the grass. I hopped off of his back and laid myself out. He dropped himself next to me._

"_You know what Lynn taught me last summer?" I knew this would get him. It's only something to start a conversation. Lynn is my counselor at summer camp. She's the whore. Let me back up; she's not a whore. Just very experienced in sex. _

"_What did she teach you?" he asked. _

"_She taught me…how to give the perfect, mind blowing blow job," I said finally. I'm sure I saw Bruce's breathing hitch. "She told me, that step one is that you have to lick up the back of the shaft. Like a lollipop. Step two sets the tone of the blow job. Whatever that means. You have to gently squeeze the tip of the penis between your lips. Then take the whole thing in your mouth. And you can do spirals and use your teeth. Deep throat is kind of hard though. Unless you don't choke when you swallow the—" _

"_Gemma!" Bruce shouted. _

"_What?" _

"_You don't need to talk like that." _

"_Why? Why can't I know how to give a blowjob? Does it offend you? I know what sex is Bruce. The penis goes in a vagina and that causes orgasms. I like talking about sex. I want sex." _

"_What about doing it with someone you love? What about making love?" _

"_What about it? It's the same thing. All I want is to know what it feels like to have a giant dick inside me. Lynn says the bigger the better. She said the best sex she had was twelve hours long. And that he did her doggie style. I wonder what she meant by that." _

_I left the conversation at that. I can't figure out why I started talking about blowjobs. I just know I want to give Bruce one. It's supposed to feel great. I looked over at Bruce. He had his arm over his eyes. I crawled over to him. I loomed over his body. My lips touched with his broad chest. I kissed all around his pecks. _

"_Gemma…you need to stop," he said. _

"_I don't want to. Just enjoy," I whispered back. I trailed my tongue down his abs and stopped at the edge of his underwear. Bruce's cock stood like a tent beneath his underwear. I hooked my fingers in the waistband. I pulled them down. Oh my god. It just stands up. Against the forces of gravity. I kissed the tip of his penis. It doesn't have a particular taste, I don't think. I took him into my mouth. My tongue touched the back of his shaft. Bruce bucked his hips. I licked up the whole thing. Bruce shot up and grabbed my arm. He pulled me back down with him. _

"_What did you do that for? I was trying to give you a—"_

"_I know what you were doing Gemma." _

"_Then why stop?" _

"…_If you kept going, I wouldn't be able to control myself." _

"_You mean…come in my mouth? Bruce that's fine with me." _

"_That's not what I meant." _

"_Sex?" _

"_Yeah. I would have tried. You have no idea how much I want to make love to you Gemma." _

"_Then do it. Fuck me. Right here, right now." _

"_It wouldn't be right." _

"_A lot of things aren't right."_

**There it is folks! Hope you enjoyed reading another chapter! Please Review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Please REVIEW! I got an A- in physics! Anyway, so I have a few tricks up my sleeve. They won't come until later. Or maybe they're in this chapter. Hmmm….Review and get a prize!**

Chapter Seven: Hell Is Better Than My Own Personal Heaven.

I'm in Heaven. I have finally died. I know that for sure now. Everything is white and…emotionless. How depressing for what Heaven is hyped up to me. No offense, but I did kind of expect to be fed shrimp from a string of pearls.

And then it hits me. I've been killed by Bruce Wayne—_murdered_ by Bruce Wayne. That sounds more incriminating. When I thought about death when I was living, I never imagined it would be so…lame. If God is going to take me out, at least let me get hit by a bus or something. Not a Lamborghini going fifteen miles per hour at a red fucking stoplight with ugly interior.

I've been murdered by a man with absolutely _no_ taste in interior design while crossing the street. I will be the laughing stock of the dead. That is the most bitter of the bittersweet. Seriously, I have this scenario planned out. I'll be standing on a cloud and another lost soul will come up to me and ask me how I died.

I'll say:

'_I was murdered crossing a street. Hit by a car.' _

The other dead person will say:

'_What happened?'_

And I'll say:

'_Bruce Wayne killed me.'_

And that will be all it takes for that person to float away from me. I can't even be normal in Heaven because of Bruce being my murderer.

I look down at my body. Thank goodness I'm clothed. I'm wearing a medium length white dress. It looks vaguely familiar. I've been in this dress before. I can't remember when, but I know I wore this dress at some point in my life.

"How did I die God?" I ask God. Why not ask anyway. I'm already dead. The only thing he can do is send me to hell. But I've been there already so it can't be that bad as everyone says.

"Oh Gemmaline dear you didn't die. You are in the hospital. You passed out in the ambulance. You might be high on Morphine. But hey, who doesn't like being high?" the voice was followed by a soft giggle.

Am I the only one hearing this or…is that…Betty White? What the hell? Since when is God a woman? Or Betty White? I wonder if Sandra Bullock is forcing her to talk to me. I think I'm in the wrong heaven. Maybe I made a wrong turn at that cloud back there.

"Is that you God? Out of all the things I've seen, this has to be the weirdest."

There's nobody around. Where are the golden gates, angels singing along to harps and waterfalls? The _'Welcome to Heaven'_ sign? It's a white nothing. This is false advertising. Heaven is much better on those candles at the grocery store. I should have bought one of those. Might as well send me to hell now, I didn't buy a Jesus candle.

"Hello? God you can answer me if you want. Or if you are Betty White that's cool too. I saw _The Proposal_ twice. I like Lil' John too. Although I stopped singing his song after I found out what skeet, skeet, skeet meant. I know you have other lives to create, save, take—ooh! I shouldn't have said that."

God/Betty White didn't answer me. I was kidding when I said you should send me to hell God. LOL smiley face!

"No answer. That's okay. You are busy enough."

I walk around for a few minutes looking for whatever I could find. I step backwards and stop when my back hits a solid wall. I jump away from the wall. A sparkly golden doorknob hypnotizes me. I've always been attracted to things that sparkle. I touch the knob carefully in case it isn't real. And real it is. I turn the knob and push. The white space disappears and reveals a dark space. Dramatic. I poked my inside. A shining light is down at the bottom. I lean forward more. My foot slips on the edge of the floor. I try to catch the walls but fail.

The feeling of falling in Heaven isn't the same as falling on earth.

In Heaven, you float in one place. The dark space shows every memory in my life. I see my arguments and laughs with Rachel and Bruce, crashing the car through the garage the same day I got my driver's license, giving birth to Marty, my relationships with Holly J. and Crystal, Tessa, T.J., and Bridgette, finding out I was adopted, graduation, everything. Including my nightmares with Chase. Something I want to forget. Not one memory is left out. I turn over on my stomach. The bright light is getting closer.

The light left and replaces itself with a small person. The slow falling feeling sped up faster than I had time to react. I cover my eyes with my arms. I pass through the light seeing a pile of brown burlap sacks stuffed to the rim. I slam down on the bags hard. The impact's bite is worse than its bark. Whatever they're filled with, sure as hell killed my back. I took out the pin in my back, finding that it is an envelope. I sat up to look around. What the hell?

I pull my legs from under me and stand up. It must be the mail room of Heaven. Little angels floating around frantically, carrying mail and scrolls in their tiny arms. Not caring about the feathers from their wings flying in the air. Is this what Heaven truly feels like? No fucking way! I pick up the hem of my dress and step over the bags. I almost got floated over by an angel. The other angels are too busy flying around and reading letters to notice me.

One thing captures my eye. One important thing. An angel sits behind a desk, his wings fluttering all about. He holds a fountain pen in his hand checking off a list of names. His hand moved at the speed of light across the paper. My eyes can't keep up. If I hadn't been noticed before, maybe he won't notice me now. He can help me get out of here. I raised my hand to the side of his head. SMACK! Shit! That wasn't supposed to happen! He jumps tensely and flies out of his seat. He hovers in front of me shaking a fist. He looks worn and old and fat and bald. Aren't angles supposed to be cute?

"Why I otta!—" and then he stops. My eyes can't close from fear and the curiosity of wondering if I'm going to be cussed out by an angel, in Heaven no less.

"Oh the devil's maker! We got a human!" he yells. I take a step back from him. All of the other angels stop what they are doing and turn to me, mouths dropped to the floor.

"Hi," I say waving. They scramble out of their posts and float around like crazy people. The angel in front of me grabs my hand and leads me away from his desk.

"What's going on? Where are we going?" I ask. This can't be Heaven, it just can't be. I duck from a flying box of scrolls through the air. The whole mail room is erupting with chaos.

"There is no 'we'. I am getting you out of here. And this is Heaven sweetcheeks. It's your Heaven. You aren't supposed to be here. You aren't dead," he answers.

Strangely, this angel's voice is more like a drunken Yankee fan than from the harps of the Lord.

"My Heaven? What is that supposed to mean?"

He pulls me through another mail room. These angles act the same as the ones in the other room.

"Don't you listen? Technically you aren't dead yet. You are in between Heaven and Hell. The stage of deciphering if you live or not."

"Wow. That sounds fun."

"Choosing who lives and dies? Eh, gets old after a while."

"So where is—"

"God? Out on a break. I think he's visiting a church or something. And FYI; you might want to watch what you say about going to hell. It can be done."

The angel tugs me harder past a corner in the room and down a hallway with pictures on the wall. Doors shut us off from the light of the other room. I hold my arms tighter to my body. Where is he taking me?

"So…what's your name?" I ask.

"My name?" he scoffs, "I don't understand. Angels don't have names."

"Yeah you do. Everyone has some name. My name is Gemma."

"I don't want to tell you my name."

"I thought you said Angels don't have names."

"You don't want to know mine."

"It can't be that embarrassing as mine. Try living with your first name being Gemmaline-Kenzie. It makes me want to slam my head against the wall for my mother naming me after two people and then including her own imagination in the process."

"The name's Marty."

My ears buzz with this new information. My mouth dries. "Marty?" I can barely get out.

"Yeah. You know, eh, Short for Martin." I cover my heart with my hand. I haven't heard that name in so long.

"Are you okay lady?" Marty places his hand on my forehead.

"I'm fine. A little lightheaded."

"Lightheaded is for the living." I chock on my tears. "Lady you don't need to be crying here okay. You don't need to go all Oprah on me."

"Don't cry mommy."

His voice sounds so small. He is frightened. It kills me that I can't be there to comfort him the way I want to. It kills me that I wasn't a good enough mother to him. It's my fault he's dead. I should have taken him to the hospital quicker. I should have told him more about Bruce instead of keeping him a secret. I don't want to think about what my life would be like if I had gotten that abortion that I know for a fact, my family wanted me to have.

They don't know Marty was Bruce's baby either. If I didn't have Marty, he wouldn't have entered my life and died. If I didn't have Marty, I wouldn't have had a reason for living after Bruce. If I didn't have Marty, I wouldn't have struggled. If I didn't have Marty, I would have ended it all.

I chock on another sob stuck in my throat. I rubbed my eyes. I don't want to cry. I'm tired of crying. I'm so tired of living this way. I don't believe what I'm seeing. Marty stood by my side smiling up at me. He held up his tiny hand to me. What hurts is that I know he's dead. I can't touch him. But I took his hand in mine anyway. Skin to skin. I knelt down to his level. I brushed his hair back.

"I don't like it when you do that mommy," he reminds me.

"Sorry kiddo. I forgot you don't like that. I haven't seen you in so long."

"It's okay. I like it here. Grandma told me to keep it a secret until you're better."

What did he just say? Why is he talking about Tina? Marty doesn't know Tina that well as his grandma. We visited Tom's parents in Honolulu more often than Tina and Alex in Florida. He barley knows who Tina is. He never mentioned knowing her and I didn't push.

"What is it Marty? What did grandma tell you?"

Marty bites his lip. He looks down at the ground nervously. "She told me not to tell. I have to keep it secret."

"You can tell me. She won't get mad."

"It's a secret mommy!"

"Martin; what did she say?"

"She told me not to tell you."

"Tell me what? Marty I am your mother."

"She told me not to tell you I got better."

"Got better? What does that mean?"

"I went home after you left me at the doctor."

"Home where?"

"Shhhh! I can't tell you anymore."

My son slipped through my fingers. He left before I could tell him I love him. What was he trying to tell me? And what does Tina have to do with it?

"Are you ready to go?" the other Marty's voice echoed in the room. I stand up and nodded. I follow him to the end of the hallway. We approach two dark double doors.

"If I were you, I'd hold my breath," Marty said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Don't do it and find out."

"Okay no need to get hasty."

I plug my nose waiting for whatever is going to happen next. The floor drops beneath me. I don't scream. I want this to be over. And over it is. I land on a beach. The sand is pure white. I pick myself up. No sooner than I do, the beach vanishes and I am left in the middle of nowhere. I take one step forward and a bright light reveals an ocean and the small dock I stood on. The water illuminates the endless wooden pier. Maybe this is my last stop before I find Heaven. I step off of the dock and on the wood pier. My stomach drops ten times faster than it had before. I move my foot back to the dock. My skin feels air behind me. I turn my head to see that the dock disappears.

I guess that means I can only go forward. I continue along the pier again. The wood feels rough against my feet. I don't look back at the dock. Why bother. The pier ends at a small bush. Strange. I touch the leaves and pull them back to see what waited on the other side. I step into the bush. Déjà vu. I walk in on the front yard of Wayne Manor. A giant oak tree sits in the corner covered in decorative lights. A man stands next to the tree. I squint my eyes to get a better look. His face looks nervous. He can't stop wiping his hands on his pants and keeps fumbling with the bow on his tux. I wonder if he knows how to get out of here.

"Hey!" I shout. I didn't get an answer. If God doesn't answer you, who else will?

"Hey! Excuse me!" I shout again. No response. I storm angrily from my spot near the bush—which pulled a Houdini of its own—and make my way over to the guy near the tree. I get closer to him and freeze. A nineteen year old Bruce Wayne. I can't keep my eyes closed. This is where we had our first kiss; however I beg to differ because Bruce kissed me at the Gotham Charity Ball on Christmas Eve three years before and he considered that our first kiss.

This was the night he admitted he loved me. I walk up to him slowly. He can't see me. I'm invisible to him. I held up my hand and try to touch his face. My hand passes through him. Bruce's chiseled face hides the emotions he had shown before. He drops his eyes to the grass then lifts them back up. I follow his gaze to a sixteen and stupid year old me. Wearing the same dress I have on now.

_Bruce smiles his million dollar smile at me. His dark brown hair in a classic slicked back style and a black tux over his muscular body. My god does he look so handsome in a tux. They are practically made for him. I smiled at him. His eyes showing a kind of happiness you can only have from a friendly face. I stop in front of my prince charming. He opens his mouth to say something._

"_You look amazing. Absolutely stunning," He says. _

_I smile shyly and look everywhere but his eyes. _ "_Are you serious? I look a hot mess is more like it. I made this dress in sewing last week. Barely passed with this mangy thing too. Holly J. helped me fix it up a bit. Make it wearable."_

_I made the dress out of a lace bodice and a short tulle skirt. Not the best combination, but I passed sewing and that was all that mattered. Holly J. convinced me to wear it for my Sweet Sixteen tonight. She fixed it up in mere hours. By 'fixed up', I mean made some adjustments so I won't look stupid wearing this damn contraption. Everyone likes it so that's a good thing._

"_You are not a hot mess Gemma. You look beautiful."_

_I look Bruce in his eyes. I can't help but smile. He just has that affect on me. You know that person who you wouldn't dare frown in front of because you have nothing to frown for. That's how it is with Bruce. I observed our surroundings. The oak tree is covered in cheesy Christmas lights and birthday streamers from the Party Palace._

"_So…Mr. Wayne, what is this surprise you have for me? You get me to come out here in the middle of the night for what? Some cheap Christmas lights and birthday streamers?"_

_Bruce sighed heavily. "Relax Felly; you would have come out here anyway." He smiled cockily. His smile sent shivers down my spine. And he's right. I would come out here anyway. Not just for anyone._

"_You are still the only person that calls me Felly, you realize that right? You should take a hint from everyone else because it's not going to fly. I will personally make sure of that."_

"_I'm not going to stop calling you Felly, Gemma," he said._

"_Oh yes you are. I can't have you embarrassing me in front of cute guys."_

"_You mean those pigs you call cute? I don't think so. If they know any better, they won't speak two words to you."_

"_Bruce! Who are you to say who I want to be with?"_

"_The only person that matters. Who else is going to look out for you? Holly J.? Crystal? I don't think so."_

"_Darn! And I thought I could rely on the girls to weed out the creeps. Not one of the creeps to weed out the creeps." I laughed._

"_I am not a creep. I know for a fact that if I were a creep, you would have left two minutes ago."_

"_How do you know that?"_

"_Sweetheart, I'm Bruce Wayne," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. _

_I opened my eyes in shock. What is he doing? We were friends, not friendlier friends. I stood still as a statue. He took my arms and wrapped them around his strong neck. Because I didn't have the mental capacity to do so._

"_Bruce what are you doing? What is all this?" I squeaked. And as if this moment doesn't sound more 80's teen movie, the music began to play. And not just any song. My favorite song of all time._

_Human Nature by Michael Jackson. "We're dancing, aren't we?" he says cockily._

"_I can see that, thank you captain obvious. I mean…this is so…so…" I knew exactly the right word for it. But I didn't know if I should say it out loud._

"_So romantic?" He said for me. _

_He's twirling me beneath the stars of the countryside, and I'm confounded to words that are only one syllable. I never imagined this would be happening to me. The girl that went from having nothing to everything I want. And yet I still feel empty. I am positive that Bruce alone won't make my emotions subside. The constant thoughts won't leave my head. I don't know where they came from or how to stop them. I want them to go away. They are bad thoughts. Thoughts I don't want to think about for fear of losing my self-control. It's impossible to do it on my own. _

"_Why are you being like this with me? Now? What's the point?__" I ask._

"_Today is your birthday Gemma. Please don't question why I'm doing something nice for you."_

"_It was only a question you jerk. It's not my fault you are so damn sensitive. This is suspicious to me. What are you up to now Wayne?"_

"_Listen here Dawes, it's your birthday. You can't just plan your own surprise."_

"_Not when this guy I know asks me to come out at one in the morning telling me he has a surprise. Let me guess; Alfred?"_

"_I can do things myself you know."_

"_Bruce."_

"_Alright Alfred helped." _

_I laugh at how defeated his face looked. I really bruised his ego. "He set up the lights, the music, and you made the phone call?"_

_He smiles. "How did you know?"_

"_Because I know you Wayne. Only you can get away with not doing anything."_

"_Maybe you know me a little too well."_

"_Maybe I do. It's not like you try to hide anything from me. You are an open book for me to read. Nothing is off limits with you," I flirt._

"_Well that's a problem isn't it?"_

"_Can't blame me for your life all out in the open. Mr. Playboy Billionaire." That is my nickname for him. "Oh, or should I call you Brucie? What was her name again? That model…Trina Mender." _

_I recall a time we were at one of the Gotham Elite parties. The airhead model Trina Mender had called him Brucie in front of everyone. I laughed my ass off for two days straight. No one ever calls Bruce Brucie but me. Rachel doesn't even call him that. I'm not afraid to. It's my payback for being called Felly._

_"You sure are one to talk__Gemmaline."_

_I open my mouth in fake shock. He had said the name that was on my birth certificate. "Gasp! The billionaire actually remembers something!" I tease._

"_I try my best." he laughs. His eyes glittered with passion._

"_Seriously, stop with the names. If anyone heard you call me Gemmaline…"_

"_Why? Rachel knows. Crystal knows. Holly knows. Your parents know. Why can't I? Is it that bad?"_

"_I don't know. I don't feel well knowing that the whole fucking world knows my name. What the hell was Tina thinking naming me that? Rachel has a normal name. Why can't I?_

"_Gemma, your name makes you who you are. It's beautiful and unique. Although I'm sure everyone was wondering why she named you Gemmaline. It's for your family. You should be proud that you have a name that has history to it."_

"_I knew you'd say that. You always say something so deep when no one wants to hear what you have to say."_

"_I'm glad you think I'm selfish 23/7."_

"_It's not that silly. You have a thing about you. I can't explain it. I don't think I want to. I like the mystery of not knowing." _

_We stay silent for a few minutes. Waiting for the other to say something. I lean my head down on his chest and wrap my arms around his warm waist. He does the same to me. I heard the beginning music for Human Nature. It must be on replay._

"_You still didn't answer my question," I say after a while. I looked up into his eyes. I want to know what he's thinking. Bruce can be so closed off when he doesn't want to be bothered with people. I don't blame him. There are times when I want to be alone too. I want him to not be afraid of what others will think of him. If he denies that he doesn't care, he does. There is a part of him that is separate from what he lets us see. I barely see it, if at all._

_"What was that?" he asked._

"_What's the surprise? Because technically it's not my birthday anymore. And if there is no surprise, this whole thing is bullshit." I straighten up and place my hands on his shoulders._

"_I thought I should surprise you with something that told you how I feel."_

_I gaze straight into his dark brown eyes. They hold love, affection…love. Only one person I know has gotten the same exact expression: Rachel._

"_I have no idea what you're talking about." I giggle nervously. _

_Sam has never made me feel the way Bruce did. Bruce doesn't even have to try. Whenever I am around Bruce, I get butterflies, my hands sweat, I get anxious, my heart speeds up, I can't think, I can't breath. Still, I know in my heart that I'm in love with him. It doesn't matter to me anymore if he feels the same way back. Loving him is enough for me. I want him to be happy. If he's happy in someone else's arms…I have to learn to accept that._

_Bruce twirls me around again. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about Gemma." His voice is serious. He isn't playing around. The realization shakes me. Why am I here? What is he trying to tell me? _

"_Well obviously I don't. I don't even know what you're talking about. 'How I feel'? What is that supposed to mean?" _

"_Gemma…I can't stop thinking about you. You drive me crazy all day and night. I love everything about you. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you smile, smell, laugh. The way you get angry and huff. You're intoxicating to me."_

_I have to stop him. "Bruce—" I have only dreamed of this. Now this dream of mine is coming true. And here I am trying to tell him to stop. Am I a fucking idiot? Yes._

"_Let me finish Gemma. I can't live without you."_

"_But Bruce—"_

_He pulled me closer to him. I feel his hot breath on my neck. It smells like peppermints. He takes one of his big hands from my waist and pushes back my hair. He touches my cheek softly. Bruce rubes his thumb underneath my eye and said what I had been waiting for since I had broken up with Sam. I think I'm going to puke._

"_I love you."_

_When a person says 'I love you', the initial words to say back are, 'I love you too'. Why can't I say that now? I've been going over this so many times in my mind, and now that it is actually happening, I can't say it back. Do I want to? Is he joking? Will he change his decision later?_

"_Bruce, you don't love me," I say sadly._

"_Yes. Yes I do Gemma. You don't know how much I love you," he responds grimly. _

_Bruce holds my head tighter in his hands. I can feel him shaking my head, as if to shake his feelings into me. I don't want it like this. I didn't imagine Bruce telling me he loved me underneath a tree covered in lights with music playing. I imagined it when we were being real with each other. No secrets between us. Everything is out on the table. We are both bare. Not hyping up how he feels. There doesn't need to be a show._

"_Do you really Bruce? Why can't you just tell me? No theatrics, no show, no nothing. Why do you need all of this, to tell me you love me?"_

"_Why aren't you saying it back?"_

"_Bruce—"_

"_Don't give me another excuse Gemma. You know what I think?"_

"_I got a feeling you are going to tell me."_

"_You're scared. You are scared of putting yourself out there."_

"_Do you blame me? Let's look back at my history; Age seven, I find out I'm adopted, I get ridiculed in school, Rachel hates me, I almost drown at Crystal's pool, I get dumped by Sam, I'm depressed because I don't know who the fuck my mother is, and I hate myself for not caring about the woman that raised me, and trading her in for a woman who will only be some dead lady to me! So yeah, I guess I don't like putting myself out there! How can I when all I feel is hate? Tell me Bruce! I can't be normal when you aren't around!"_

"_And you think I don't feel the same way? My parents are dead Gemma! I'll never get to see them again. So don't stand there and act like you've been to rock bottom. I'd die for you Gemma! If I'm such bullshit, look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me!"_

"_I fucking hate you! You stupid bastard! I hate the fact that I love you. And for so long, you can see that? You have no idea what I feel for you—!"_

_I'm cut off by his warm lips crashing upon mine within seconds. Bruce's lips felt soft and rough at the same time as he kisses me. I feel his hot tongue touch my teeth with his feathery touch. I open my mouth and let him in. I sigh as our kiss grows more passionate. He nibbles on bottom lip making me bend into him and his hand run through my hair and hold the back of my head. This is what I had wanted forever. I had only dreamed about this. And now it was true. We pull apart and stare into each other's eyes._

_He pushed back the hair he messed up from my face. _"_This summer we're going to spend every waking moment together before I go to college. You'll be the naïve junior; I'll be the experienced college student…"_

"_Oh give me a break Bruce. You'll be a freshman," I laugh._

"_Whatever, I'm still older than you."_

"_You don't act like it." I counter back. "So this summer…" I start again. _

_"Yeah…"_

"_What should we do?" _

_He rolls his eyes up, deep in thought. I think it is so cute how he took minutes to think of something to say when he is around me._ "_Whatever you want to do." Bruce pulls me closer to him. He puts one of my hands on his shoulder while holding the other. I instinctively start dancing to the last chorus of my song. Our song. _

_"You can start by kissing me." I say boldly._

_Bruce winks his eye suggestively. He bends over and sweeps me off my feet. Bruce cradles me in his arms._

"_Where are we going?" I can think of one place we can go at this time of night. I think he knows that I know._

"_My place," he answers._

_Hot digity dog._

**Bruce's POV**

I've been sitting in Gemmaline's room for the past three hours. The doctors told me she passed out in the ambulance. This is my fault. If I hadn't been on the phone…but it can have been worse that it is. A soft knock hit the door. I don't bear to look up. The paparazzi are already having a field day with this. It is all over the internet—in less than fifteen minutes after the incident—that I finally hit someone from my reckless driving. They don't even care that Gemma is hurt; only that Bruce Wayne, the playboy billionaire, is getting the book thrown at him.

I hear someone come through the door. It's Alfred. I can guess what he thinks right now. Alfred is never one for keeping quiet when it is important, such as this. His eyes droop with one look at her. His eyes reach me and frown.

"You do know that this is why talking on the phone is illegal in California right?" he asks. I can sense the sarcasm urging to come undone. He wants to pulverize me with his words of wisdom. I don't want to hear it right now.

"It isn't in Gotham."

"Don't you watch the news? It's been against the law since last week. I guess they'll make a prime example out of you."

"I haven't heard any news concerning her. All that matters is my punishment."

"In all fairness Master Wayne, Miss Dawes did have the right of way. It is your fault."

I smirk dreadfully. Dawes. I planned on making her Gemmaline Wayne when I came home from Princeton for Spring Break. The whole wedding would take place at the beach, where she is at peace. Then I found out about my parents' trial. I got so sidetracked with knowing what was going on with the trial; I didn't talk to her at all. I forgot all about my visit, my life. I ate, slept, and lived that trial for the two years it was dragged out. Each time they were going to move forward with Chill's sentence, another piece of evidence had to be analyzed.

My relationship with Rachel became more than what it was before. We grew feelings for each other. Rachel doesn't have the same problems that Gemma has. With Rachel, I don't have to deal with constantly reminding her that I love her. Or worry about hurting her feelings. I have to walk on egg shells with Gemma. I…I fell in love with Rachel. Although I still care for Gemma, I know we can't go back to what we had. Our relationship is poison—to both of us. What happened with Gemma was a mistake. I knew I was leaving. I wish I hadn't led her on the way I did. But I did.

There is nothing I can do now that can change that. I feel guiltier now than ever about our past. I have moved on from our childish antics. In the process of moving on, I fell in love with Rachel. I hope Gemma will still want to be friends. I will always be there for her. I just can't be in that way. I raise my eyes up at Alfred again. The appearance of wear and tear from natural aging is taking a toll on him. The frown lines in his face concede to the permanent frown he has had for a while now.

A teddy bear hangs lifelessly in his hands by his side and flowers in the other. Alfred hobbled over to the bed. He lightly put the flowers and the teddy bear on the foot of the bed. He patted his hand on the blanket. I grimace. Gemma is a child to Alfred. I, Rachel, Gemma, Tessa, and T.J. are the only children that he's known. He almost lost Gemma. Thanks to me.

"Has anything changed Master Wayne?" he asked quietly.

I hesitate to respond. The doctors won't tell me anything about her condition. I'm not family. And I'm definitely not her husband. The nurse called Rachel. She got the number from Gemma's phone. Then she had a ball sifting through her text messages and emails. I put an abrupt stop to that.

"No. The doctors aren't saying a word until Rachel gets here."

I drop my head in my hands. Rachel and I haven't truly talked in so long. I don't see her as much as I use to before she found out about my nightly activities. I want her to be safe. Not out of my life permanently. That Harvey has something to do with it. What does she see in him? He's dull. Being in a conversation with him is watching paint dry. He is Gotham's 'White Knight'. In my opinion, which doesn't seem to matter to anyone, is that he can't be trusted. Dent is moving too fast with the mob. Maroni won't dawdle for one minute when he is threatened. I got a feeling something is about to go down. The Narrows is becoming worse every night. More drug dealers than the previous round.

Then there is this Joker. I need to know what he's up to. This is the worst possible time for Gemma to visit. I don't want her anywhere near the city. Rachel said she was happy in L.A. She has a boyfriend. I bet it's that asshole that kissed her in the airport earlier probably. So he is her boyfriend? So what? Gemma is my Gemma.

"How could I do this to her Alfred? She hates me. I have never seen Gemma so angry," I say after our long, much needed silence.

"Master Wayne, I'm sure Miss Gemmaline will be fine. She has been a fighter all her life. I should know."

I take another look at her. Gemma's head is wrapped in gauze. Stitches sewn into her head thanks to the windshield. I got off my ass. I walked pass Alfred to stand by her side. I take her cold hand in my warm one. She has changed so much. Her hair is longer, thicker, more glossy, and darker. Her childlike features are outgrown and replaced with a more womanly nature. She's gone from cute to a goddess.

My eyes travel to the curve of her neck, followed by the sweet curve in her chest, then back up to her neck. I notice a faint, light bruise around her neck. Her neck didn't hit the windshield; she had covered herself with her arms. That bruise is at least a month old. I pulled down the collar on the gown. One finger-like bruise at the base of her neck, and the thick bruise on the side, the tell tale signs of a hand. Is it that boyfriend of hers? Is this all in my head? Gemma would never allow someone to put there hands on her like that.

"What is it now?" I hear Alfred ask.

"There are old bruises on her neck. Not from the accident. Someone did this to her."

"Do you think she was attacked?"

"I don't know. I'm going to find out, that's for sure. She won't like it, but I intend to keep close tabs on her."

I tuck her dark hair behind her ear. The pink streak strikes into sight. After all these years, she never got rid of it. Should I be happy? All I feel is guilt. She shouldn't have kept it after what went on between us. Does she even still care about our relationship? About me? How would I feel if she had the same feelings she did for me when I know I'm in love with Rachel now? How can I tell her I don't care for her in the same way?

"Please wake up," I whisper.

I lean down to her temple. I kiss her gently. The pull I have toward Gemma is so much different than Rachel's. I can't explain. When I'm with Gemma, I feel free. For a long time, I didn't feel that. With Rachel I know what's going. It's not so unpredictable. I need that security.

**Gemma's POV**

There is a beeping noise right next to my head. Whoever is making that noise better shut the fuck up. Oh god, why won't it stop? The ear splitting noise echoes through my cranium nonstop. My eyes won't open. They are so heavy. My joints feel old and rickety. I try to move the muscles in my fingers. Finger by finger, I move my unused joints. The feeling of life is coming back to me. I take a deep breath. I open my eyes. The blurriness steadies itself cautiously. My eyes come face to face with him. I gasp.

"You! You get the fuck out of this room right now!" I yell. Bruce takes a step back from the bed. His hands find the pockets of his pants. "Do you not understand English? I told you to leave!"

"Gemma, please let me explain—"

"No! I'm tired of your explaining! All you do is hurt the people around you more! I don't ever want to see you again. Stay the fuck away from me Bruce. Don't call, don't visit, and don't follow. I never want to see your face for the rest of my life."

I can see the hurt in his eyes. He doesn't understand, he never will. I want to stab that knife deeper into him, just like he did to me. Explain. Explain what? How you left me pregnant with your son. Missing without a trace for seven years, thinking he was dead. Explain how I can tell my son who his father really is. Some playboy who is depressed on the inside and sleeps with every woman in the tri-state area. And he wants to tell me how it's not his fault that he ran me over.

"I know you are in pain and upset—I don't know how many times I can tell you I'm sorry. I didn't see you in the crosswalk, hell I didn't see the stoplight," he says.

I close my eyes, taking this all in. He didn't see me.

"Bruce, don't. Please just stop with the antics. There is nothing you can do now," my voice is so tiny. A minute ago I was ready to bite his head off. Now I can't say two words to him. "It's funny because the last time we saw each other, I told you that if you walked out the door to never come back. You came back. Eventually. The whole universe thought you were dead, but there always has to be a little bit of controversy with you right?"

"Gemma, I never meant to hurt you that night. What happened…with us—"

"What are you trying to say? That we were a mistake? Bruce you and I both know that you were leaving regardless if I convinced you to stay. Obviously I must not have been that important to you since you left."

"Gemma I was younger—things were different back then. What did you want me to do?"

"Fight! Fight for us. Bruce you didn't fight for me. You left like the cowardly snake you really are. What'd you do? Bang some more girls taking their virginity too?"

"This is not the time or the place for this Gemma."

"Actually it is. Because you see, I'm not going to listen to a word you have to say anymore. I will not be quieted. Don't shut me up. I have questions that will be answered. Right here, right now. Are you in love with Rachel?"

I saw the breath stop in his chest. I hit a nerve. And as much as I don't want to hear the answer to this damn question I force upon myself, I need to know the answer.

"Bruce. Look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Do you love Rachel?"

"Yes."

The knife in my back went deeper than ever before. I can feel Rachel standing behind me pushing it in with an evil twist of the handle.

"When did that happen?"

"Gemm—"

"Answer the goddamn question."

"At Princeton. I didn't want to admit it to myself."

"Do you love me?"

"I can't answer that. But Gemma, I want you in my life. And I know you hate me right now, I want you to understand—"

"I'm not understanding shit you say anymore. Those days are over bud. I hope you rot in hell. You sick fucking bastard. Get. Out. You disgust me. I don't even want to look at you right now."

"I'm so sorry for making you feel like this."

"Porque você não pode me deixar sozinha? Não há nada que eu tenho para te dizer.Não vale a pena perder meu fôlego na tentativa de fazê-lo ver a luz. Estou cansado de gritar e os gritos. Se você tem que estar fora da minha vida para que isso aconteça, então Bruce, que é apenas a maneira que tem que ser," I say in Portuguese. He doesn't understand Portuguese. He is too dumb to. Bruce barley understands Spanish. Spanglish is more like it.

A knock.

The door opens, interrupting our argument. Bruce and Alfred turn to my nurse. Who resembles Betty White in a scary kind of way. She is no less than eighty years old. A white hat sits on top of her snow white hair, toping off her small frame. She looks at Bruce, then at me, then at Bruce again. Her hands clap together excitedly.

"Oh! So you are the Gemma handsome was talking about. Hi, I'm nurse Bessie. I just came in here to check to see how you were doing."

Bessie pushes Bruce forcefully out of her way. She sways up to my side with a smile. Her hand grabs my hand from its tight grip on the sheets. She pats it with a smart smirk.

"I over heard your cries of passion. Don't worry, I won't tell a soul. Usually the meds give people hallucinations. You had some strong stuff. It's not the first time a patient has gotten high before. Your secret is safe with me."

"Um…okay…" I say nervously.

Bessie smiles knowingly. She takes the half empty bag of IV and replaces it with another one. Bruce watches intently along with Alfred. The worry in his eyes makes me almost regret yelling at him. Almost. The anguish in Alfred's eyes makes me feel horrible for yelling at Bruce in front of him. Alfred is getting in that age group. He can't take so much of the constant arguments like he use to. I capture Bruce's gaze. I can't look at him anymore knowing that he doesn't feel the same way anymore. It feels wrong. Bessie nods her head at me.

"Take care dear. The doctor told me you can be discharged after he checks you out."

"Okay. I can't wait to get out of here anyway."

Bessie backed away from me, conveniently bumping into Bruce. He holds on to her shoulders. Bessie spins around to face Alfred. She reaches in her bra and took out a crumpled piece of paper. She slips it inside Alfred's coat pocket.

"If you ever want to take a ride on the wild side." she winks.

Seeing Alfred get hit on, is like watching two lions hunt an antelope. It shouldn't be done and is not for the weak hearted. Alfred blushes at the eccentric gesture. I have never seen Alfred going out with a lady friend. He was always taking care of Bruce. And me. And Rachel. And anyone else Bruce brought home. The occasional hooker here and there, but other than that he only cared for the three of us.

The silence in the room drapes us in its awkwardness. Bruce opens his mouth. "—"

"Get out." I answer him meekly. The shame I feel is far worse than the anger I have.

"Gemma—"

"Get out and leave me be. I just want to move on."

Bruce lowers his head and turns to Alfred. "Okay, let's go Alfred."

I watch Bruce leave the room, followed by Alfred. I play with my fingers, picking off the dead skin. I don't understand how much has changed since the last time we saw each other. He's the father of my son. I'm not supposed to hate him. I wish I didn't. I love him. I never stopped loving him. I wish he felt the same way back. Rachel has conveniently taken my place. I knew it. Rachel never said how close she had gotten with Bruce at Princeton nor did I expect her to. I want her to be honest with me for once. She needs to stop with the lies. I don't want to feel numb anymore.

The door creaks open. In come Rachel and Harvey, right on time. Rachel sighs with her hand over her heart. She runs over to me and takes me up in a tight hug. Her perfume lingers on her clothes. I breathe in the familiar scent of Chanel 5. To me it smells like home. I give my all in the hug. Rachel pulls away quickly.

"Oh thank god. I thought the worse when I got the call. I told you to stay inside. I don't want you wondering around the city. It is way to dangerous to do alone," she says motherly.

"Rachel, I got hit by a car. Not kidnapped by a terrorist. I'm fine."

She frowns at the sarcasm in my tone. True, it could have been worse. But it wasn't and it isn't. It feels weird having Rachel worry about me out of the blue. She didn't seem to care growing up. I don't want her to care because she thinks that I might harm myself. She should care because she loves me.

"I'm only saying that I got scared. Hospitals aren't the best place to be right now."

"I don't mean to interrupt this moment, but Rachel we need to be back in twenty minutes," Harvey says. He hands Rachel a giant plastic bag.

"Oh! I almost forgot. We need to get you discharged. I brought you some things from the house." she set the bag on my leg. I opened it finding a change of clothes and a hair brush. She knows me so well.

"Okay. I'll be out soon. The doctor said its okay?"

"Yeah; he didn't see any serious problems that needed to be watched. You got lucky."

Rachel patted me on the head. She left the room with a guilt stricken Harvey. What does Harvey have to feel guilty about? I hope he isn't pushing himself; stress is the last thing anyone needs.

I swung my legs off the side of the bed. A sharp pain surged in my foot. I moved my toes around to make it less painful. Boy, do I feel weird. What the hell was up with that dream? I think it means something. But what? What was Marty trying to tell me? Why does it involve Tina? I don't want to talk to her. We haven't had a proper conversation since Marty died. I think she wants to make things work between us; she just doesn't know how to tell me. Why? Fear I might jump off the handle? Do something crazy? Try to kill myself again? Once I failed at that, there was nothing else to do for me. I want to have some kind of connection with Tina. She raised me. The only mother I know. It isn't right for me to swear her out of my life like I had done with Marty. I regret not letting him know her that much. But what did he mean? There has to be some piece of the puzzle that I'm missing.

I pull a pair of black jeans from the bag. I take off the heavy nightgown from my body. In the mirror on the closed bathroom door, I can see the small bruises and cuts from when I hit Bruce's windshield. My eyes can't tear away from the scar across the bottom of my neck… I need to get my head out of the gutter. No more of that negativity. Starting now, I will only think positive thoughts. I grab the jeans and put one leg through. Then the other. I stand on both feet and zip them up. I take the shirt out of the bag. A black turtle neck. Rachel must have dug around for a piece of clothing that was more conservative. I step my feet into the flip flops. I stand shakily and pick up the bag. I fold it in a tiny square. I open the door and walk out of it. Rachel is standing by the front desk signing papers. Harvey is on the cell phone. Bruce and Alfred are standing in the small waiting area. I try not to look over that way.

"Gemma! You need to sign this." Rachel waves me over. I move slowly to where she stands. She hands me the papers I need to sign and a pen. "I already read over them. Just sign where there is a blank space."

Rachel must really think I'm incapable of reading. I read over the papers anyway. I signed my signature. Rachel snatched them from me with an attitude. I know she doesn't want to take care of me. Or maybe she is just busy and stressed about the trial with Uncle Sally. That doesn't give her an excuse to be rude. Rachel and Harvey leave me when I hand the papers back to the nurse. I follow them down the hallway. Bruce doesn't take his eyes off of me. I hide beneath my hair. I don't want him to see me like this.

"Gemma. I know you don't have a lot of time to talk right now, but I would really like it if we could get together some time." Bruce's hand touches my shoulder. I bite my lip to stop it from quivering. I face him at a snail's pace.

"For what Bruce? Maybe if we were in another time and another place, things would be different. But this is here and this is now. We can't change what happened in the past. I don't want to make the same mistakes in the future. There is no point. We said what we had to say to each other. Let it be done."

"No. I won't."

"Bruce you don't love me anymore. If you want to be with Rachel that's fine. You have to compete with Harvey and I'm on his side one thousand percent. Do you regret us?"

"No."

"Now, I find that hard to believe."

"So you are willing to just up and leave everything between us?"

"There isn't anything to say to you anymore. And I'm not going to put myself through the heartache anymore to think of words to make it better. It's not worth it anymore."

With that, I leave Bruce Wayne, alone in a hospital hallway. Am I wrong for doing this? Yes. Am I being stupid for doing this? Yes. Is the reason why I'm doing this because I love him? Yes. Sometimes, we all have to make sacrifices. It always ends up that my love for Bruce has to be the one that ends up dead.

**For those who can't speak Portuguese, here is the translation to what Gemma said.**

**Why can not you leave me alone? ****There is nothing I have to tell you.****It is not worth losing my breath in an attempt to make him see the light.****I'm tired of screaming and shouting.****If you have to be out of my life for that to happen, then Bruce, that's just the way it has to be.**

**Please don't forget to REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

Hey, yeah I've been away for a while. School and SAT practice take up most of my time. I try to get most of my writing done when I have nothing to do. So enjoy this chapter and Please Review it's great to hear your thoughts :)

**Chapter Eight: You Will Meet A Tall, Dark, Physco.**

**Gemma's POV**

I look out the window from Harvey's car. Bruce is standing with Alfred in the middle of the hospital's busy white hallway. I can barley make out their lips moving, but I know that they are talking. I had to push him. If I want the truth from Bruce, I have to keep pushing at him. He can be so closed off from everyone. He's like a pecan I can't crack. And I hate eating pecans. I didn't get the answer I wanted from him; however it was the answer I expected. Answers you expect to hear can only do so much until you find out the real reasons behind someone's actions. I…just don't care anymore. Or at least I don't want to. And that's a sickening feeling.

"You are so lucky Gemma," Rachel says, "You wouldn't believe how many hit and runs we deal with every year. And I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but if that wasn't Bruce, and he hadn't have stopped…well who knows what would have happened."

"Yeah. Who knows," I say back quietly.

I stare at Bruce and Alfred again. They haven't left the spot I last saw them in. I can feel the car moving forward. I crane my neck back in an awkward position so I can see the last bit of them. I made the right decision, right? You have to cut the fat from yourself if you ever want to move on. Bruce is my fat. He can also be a good fat too, and your body needs those to live off of. But he doesn't feel anything for me anymore. And I just want this part of my life to rest. This trip can be a new start for me. I know what I'll do; I'll stay here and when my building is done, I'll go back to L.A. and ask Jay to get a transfer to Florida or over to one of the Europe offices somewhere. Anywhere that is far away from here. I can begin a new life without any demons from the past rearing their ugly heads for once.

I rest my head against the cool window. My body temperature drops instantly. I peek at Rachel and Harvey. They are holding hands over the center counsel. Oh god. They can not get any worse than this. I am so sick of the two of them. They think everything is perfect in their lives. Until the world comes crashing down around them, and they realize that there is more than unicorns and rainbows in the world. It's filled with tragedy and a darkness only man can create. And when you face that darkness, it's not like anything your English teacher in school discussed in those crazy ethnic books she forced you to read. Rachel will be hurt and crushed and in a place that will rip her apart.

The terrible events, madness even, are the fair scores between us.

I sit up. Harvey is stuck in traffic. Nothing unusual in Gotham. I can see cop lights and hear ambulance sirens going off. What the hell is going on now?

"I know Gotham has ridiculous traffic, but we were only at the hospital for twenty minutes, more or less," Harvey says. He drums his fingers against the steering wheel to his own song.

"Sometimes there is traffic for no apparent reason. All of these stupid people that don't know how to drive," Rachel responds.

"How can you judge someone else's driving when, I once recall, that you drove dad's car through the garage," I say popping her perfectionist bubble. Rachel snorts.

"That only happened because you grabbed the steering wheel from me Gemma. How soon you forget." The tone in her voice is playful. Rachel had been ten times angry that day than she usually is. It was not my fault…_per se_. She was going to run over a helpless squirrel. Which turned out, after we were both yelled at and grounded until we could pay for half the garage expenses, was revealed to be the neighbor's daughter's hand puppet that their dog had taken from their garage, used as a chew toy and who knows what else, and left in our driveway. What are the odds? Better to be safe than sorry.

"I was trying to save a life Rachel. I didn't know it was a puppet. You would have run over it. What if the squirrel had been real? We both have to live with that."

"But it wasn't," she says annoyed.

"It could have been."

"Okay then, it was an innocent frolicking animal."

"Squirrels don't frolic. Do you understand that I paid for majority of that garage?"

"So?"

"Mom and dad made me pay for most of our half because you didn't have a job. I had to use half of my encyclopedia money to pay for that damn garage. So It's not just 'so'."

"Who saves up their money to buy an encyclopedia? Why do you think Google was invented?"

"Google didn't exist then. Of course you would say something like that. You can never do anything on your own. I've always been there for you."

The snide remark totally caught me off guard. First, we were bantering like sisters usually do. Now she's bringing out the claws? I thought she wanted to put those things behind us. Are we always going to be meant for tearing each other down? How'd we get from squirrels, garages, and Google to 'you can never do anything yourself. I've always been there for you.'?"

And just like that, I snap. "Excuse me? You haven't always been there for me! If anything, when I needed you most, you pushed me away. Where were you when I almost drowned at Crystal's party? When I found out that I was adopted? When—"

"Oh you know that is such crap! And like you are such a victim Gemma, give me a break! You've always been the damsel! I have to save your ass every time! Don't play that card with me, not again!"

"Damsel? Damsel Dean was the girl from down the street and around the fucking corner from kindergarten! Is that what you are calling me now? I've passed the level of suicidal bitch? Jesus Christ Rachel when were you going to tell me I earned enough respect from you that I'm not called a pill popping whore? I never got that memo in our weekly therapy session. I don't act like I'm perfect. If anything, you are that one that's a Damsel, the way you parade around like you can do no wrong! 'Oh Bruce! Help me! Help me!' He's obsessed with you!"

"Everything is always about Gemma, Gemma, Gemma. I couldn't have anything to myself, not even Bruce because you took him too! And you're too stupid to see that he loves you!"

"I know you think I'm fucked up in the head and needed to be treated like physco just escaped from the fucking loony bin, so just say it!"

"Say what?"

"Don't act like you don't know!"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking!"

"HEY!" Harvey shouts. Rachel and I stop our arguing.

She turns her head to him like he lost his mind. "Harvey? Are you okay?"

Harvey tries to stay focused on the road. His hands tighten around the steering wheel. The whites in his knuckles are clearly visible. His eyes lock with mine in the rearview mirror. "The both of you need to stop. You are family. Family shouldn't fight and argue like this. Not in these times."

"Obviously you haven't met us," I say.

"No, obviously he hasn't met you." Rachel says under her breath. Loud enough to where I know that she did that on purpose.

"Oh really? And what does that mean? He's already met me. In fact, we are very good friends, Facebook can confirm that, by the way did you see my Tweet Harv?"

"Don't be such a smart-ass!"

"I wouldn't have to be a smart-ass if you would stop making me one!"

"I don't make you anything! You can't keep your mouth shut to save your life!"

"And you can? You always have to be the martyr to make yourself look better."

"I do not!"

"Don't lie, you do too!"

"HEY! Cut it out, the both of you!" Harvey yells again. This time I don't say anything. Rachel doesn't either. The quietness is overwhelming. I can still hear the echoing of her words in my head. Having her lie to me is worse than telling me the truth about how she really feels toward me. A million years ago, I would have never thought that this is what we'd become of. Filled with so much hate. Why? Is this really what was bubbling under the surface of our relationship? Is this what all of our unanswered questions and secrets truly are? I don't want any part of this knowing it will destroy me.

But I don't cry. I won't.

I did. I quickly wipe them away with the sleeve of my shirt. I look out the window again to take my mind off of our most recent batch of unsavory words. The traffic has gotten a little lighter since our fussing. Harvey pulls up to the stoplight kitty corner to the house. There are a few cop cars on the other side of the street. One I notice, who I can pick out in a line up of gray haired men, to be Jim Gordon. Ana Ramirez is there too. So is another ambulance. I've seen enough of those to last the next two millenniums.

Bright yellow tapes with the words 'CRIME SCENE' surround the perimeter by its telephone poles. Numerous cops closed off the press and random by-passers from seeing the inside of the tape. Everyone but me. I can see a white sheet off fabric covering something bulky. A body. How do I know this? There is a bloody hand popping out from the side of the sheet and a bright red stain in the middle of the sheet. Jim stands over the body. He touches the sheet by the hem and cautiously pulls it off the head. Then the chest. And my mouth goes completely dry. The body is a man. His throat is slit from ear to ear.

His dead, blank eyes are staring right at me, one is open and the other one is half closed. His skin is so pale; ghostly—no way past ghostly. And then his chest; multiple joker cards are stapled on his chest. Not glued, taped, or when you try to stick things together using the sticky side of a Post-It because you can't find any tape or glue or you're too lazy, _stapled_. A cop leans down next to the body. What a strange cop this is because he only stared. No note taking or anything cops do. He looks up from the body and catches me staring back. A sick and twisted grin is on his face in the shape of scars. The sun beats down on his hair, reflecting an unhealthy shade of grimy green.

The car starts to move again. My eyes don't leave the scene. I can't breath. The car is becoming too tight. The seatbelt is restraining my chest from moving.

"Get me out of this car," I say. I struggle with the seatbelt. It won't unlock. I grab the armrest tight. My hand bangs against the window. My breathing speeds up.

"What? Gemma we are right across the street from the house," Rachel snaps.

"Get me out of the damn car!"

The light turns green. Harvey makes a left turn onto their street. He pulls the car in the driveway. I unbuckle the seatbelt so fast it flings back across the other backseats. I open the door and jump out. I cover my head with my hands. The image of the man won't go away. Make it go away. Someone takes my hands from my face. Rachel holds them away from me.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Have you gone insane?" she asks. I push her hands away from me roughly. She scowls. "I'm trying to help you; I know you think everyone is out to get you—"

"Do you blame me when you are so vicious to anyone that threatens your spotlight?" I snap at her. Rachel throws her hands up in defeat. Then she places them on her hips like Tina does when she's bothered.

"Look Gemma, I know we've been through a few rough patches—"

"A few? Try a thousand."

"Will you let me finish? See, that is your problem. You won't let anyone finish what they have to say. Now will you let me speak?"

"Fine. Go ahead."

"Thank you. Yes, we've been through a lot of rough patches between us and I'm ashamed that it went as long as it did with neither of us acknowledging the problems we have. I'm trying to work on us Gemma. Please just let me in. What are you so afraid of?"

My eyes begin to water yet again. Rachel has said a lot of things to me, some more tolerant than others. I want to believe that she cares, I really do. But it's the things she does and says after she tells me she cares. And maybe she's right. I do need to stop being so defensive and I need to let people in. but the rejection is too much to bear.

"I'm scared Rachel. I'm scared that I can't change; that I won't be able to. I mean I want to. Then I can't stop myself from falling back into the hole I dug myself out of. At times I find that I can't stop from sinking to the bottom."

"We're sisters. You, me, T.J., and Tessa, we are a family. You need to start letting us help you. Please."

I can feel something inside me that actually listened to what she said. Wow, that's a first. "Just give me a little time," I say.

"As much as you need," Rachel responds. She kisses my forehead and walks inside the house. I stay outside. I take a couple of deep breaths, courtesy of the CD's _Rainbow Meditation _and _Creating Inner Peace._ These are real, trust me. From where I'm standing, I can still see the crime scene. Jim is ordering the cops around, typical cop duty. I can't move my legs. I don't want to look at the now christened street corner, but I can't look away.

It's like watching a scary movie, you don't want to watch it because you don't want to pee your pants, but you can't look away for some unknown reason you won't know until you are old and grey. This is my scary movie. I'm so into watching the man's body being zipped up in the black body bag that I don't notice than man dressed in a black trench coat and hat walking on the sidewalk in front of me. His head is down to the ground.

**Third Person…**

He resists the urge to slit her throat. He's seen her before. Somewhere, but he can't place where. He takes a second glance at her heart shaped face. It can't be….She _will_ be his peach.

**Gemma's POV**

I move aside to the car get out of his way. He stops right beside me, silent as a rock. An uneasiness creeps upon me**.** I nod my head respectively to the man and begin to slowly make my way up the rest of the driveway to the front door.

"It's a shame how the city has changed," he says. My feet stop. I turn around to face him. Should I answer? Sometimes these weirdos don't go away if you don't answer. Well, they don't in L.A. out here they just kill you.

"Um, well, you know, Gotham has been kind of the center for crime. It's not like it's a new story the next day," I answer him. He doesn't leave. Fuck.

"You should be on the look out. A pretty girl like you can always be a target for the wrong kind of attention. The mob isn't known for playing nice."

Oh goodness gracious if this crazy man on the sidewalk only knew my relation! I take my cell phone from my pocket and throw it on the ground.

"Oops! Dropped my phone. Can't go without stalking my ex on Facebook," I say nervously. Which is totally the opposite. This physco doesn't know that though. I drop to my knees and crawl to the front of Harvey's car pretending to look for my phone under the car. I can see the man's feet anymore. I take my phone and get off my knees. He's gone. To make sure, I creep past the car. Nowhere to be found. I look across the street. Gone. Up the street. Gone. Down the street. Gone.

Where did he get off to so fast? A piece of paper flies through the wind and hits my leg. I pick it up and hold it to my face. It's a map. I think it's a map. Half of the paper is ripped with burned edges. There is a red X drawn in crayon poorly with part of what looks like half of an old factory building. I flip the paper over. A red J is colored in on a corner. What the hell?

"Gemma!" Rachel's voice interrupts my speeding thoughts. I fold the paper up and tuck it in my pants pocket. She leans against the front door curiously. "What are still doing outside?" she asks.

My attention focuses on her. "Oh, um, I was clearing some of my thoughts. Don't worry, I'll be inside soon."

"Hurry up; it can get dangerous no matter where you live."

"Okay thanks for the advice."

Rachel leaves from the door. I want to believe that this is another Gotham co-wiky-dink. Nothing in Gotham is a co-winky-dink. I have the strongest feeling that I shouted have picked up that paper. Fuck my life.

I trudge weakened by my new fear of masked strangers up the rest of the driveway to the door. I open it and close it softly. Rachel and Harvey are sitting at the kitchen table buried in multiple files and paperwork.

"I'm uh…I'll be upstairs. I think I'm going to take a quick shower. I feel like I haven't left the airplane," I announce.

"There's some soap and toilet paper in the hall closet if you need any," Rachel says to her paper stuffed folder. I nod knowing that's all I can get from her right this second. I jog up the stairs, two at a time. I can't get the image of that man out of my head. What had he done that he deserved to be tortured and killed? Then that freak cop looming over his body. And what about that man in front of the driveway? It all has to add up somehow…

As long as Gordon is still here, I'm safe. He knows every cop on the force like the back of his hand.

I stop on the last step. Gordon couldn't stop someone unless he didn't know they were there. Or if someone else knew they were there. Someone that wasn't Gordon. No. That is none of my business. It can be a coincidence. Sure there are dirty cops, but this one is different. I don't know how. I don't want to know how. I need to stop worrying. I walk down the hallway, until I reach the end. I open the door to the guest room and carefully examine the space. There is a mirror in the corner, a television sitting on the dresser, a queen sized bed dressed in white sheets and a very soft looking duvet. My suitcase perfectly tucked underneath the windowsill's small seat.

I close the door. I wonder if Rachel saw what I had hid inside. It baffles me how airport security didn't catch it. I tiptoe to the window. The floor occasionally squeaks. I pull the bag from the window and open it. My clothes are unfolded from their neatness and wrinkled. Thanks Rachel. I shuffle the things around even more. I find an orange pill bottle at the bottom. I take it out, holding it to my chest like I'm fucking Gollum from Lord of the Rings. I pop open the top and pour one little white pill into the palm of my hand. And then I think; this is exactly what I'm trying to escape. This is the reason why I am the way I am. Taking this isn't going to make it go away. It might make me forget for four hours, but it won't undo the past. Nothing can. But…I have a legit reason this time. I do, really. I was hit by a car today. I wasn't given morphine because my injuries weren't serious. I wasn't offered vicodin. And…I'm hurting right now and I really need to relax.

I close my hand and grip the pill in my hand tight. If Rachel found out about this…who knows what could happen. Again. I told her I was done with this shit. Another lie. If I have to lie to protect the people I care about I'll do it. I sneak out of the bedroom carefully. I can see the bathroom in the middle of the hallway. Between the master bedroom and the linen closet. I ease myself over to the banister. I can also see Rachel and Harvey cracking beers and discussing the case. Good thinking Harvey, you can always shut her up with a Budlight, a half empty Coke, and a can of Sprite. I creep to the bathroom and close its door quietly, locking it. Opening my hand, my fingernails dug into my skin leaving deep red marks. I put the pill on the lime green countertop. Lime green? This must be Harvey's bachelor bad. God knows Rachel wouldn't dare pick out lime green and mix it with a deep red tile and white grout.

There's a stack of paper cups in the corner of the counter. I take one and fill it with water. I put the pill in my mouth and drink. I can feel the weight of the pill falling down my throat. I feel dirty. I disrespected Rachel in her own house. Strangely, I don't care that I did. And I'm scared that I don't know why. A banging on the door startles me. I jump.

"Who is it?" my voice quivers.

"Are you feeling okay? I'm just checking on you. You seemed shaken up earlier." Rachel. I guess I would be shaken up, I saw a dead body, two crazy people, and I took oxy in you bathroom.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I say stressing my voice to get her to leave.

"Are you sure?" Rachel can never let things go. She doesn't know when to stop.

I unlock the door and open it angrily. She's standing there with a disappointed expression on her face. Does she know? Her hand is behind her back. Is she holding something?

"Rachel, I had to take a fucking leak. I can't take a piss anymore without being watched? I'm your guest."

"I thought you were taking a shower."

"I'm not going to pee in the shower…unless you want me to."

"No. I'm just being concerned," she says. She steps closer to me. I step away. Her eyes squint at mine. I try to look away. "Why are your eyes bloodshot?" she asks.

"I got hit by a car today and you're asking me if I'm high? Really? I thought we've been through this before? I had to relieve myself."

"If you had to take a fucking leak so bad, why did I find oxycotin in your suitcase? There were twenty-three pills in here earlier, now there is twenty-two." Rachel holds up the orange bottle. My throat closes up. She knows. I pinch the bridge of my nose hard and bite my lip harder. I hear Rachel sigh roughly. She pushes past me and slams the door. Leaning against it, we have a stare down.

"How long?" she asks.

"What the hell are you talking about now?"

"Don't answer a question with a question. How long have you been using again?"

"What are you trying to say Rachel?"

"I'm _saying_ that you are using again. Have you even stopped? Do you know what can happen to you if you slip up with drugs? Jail! You could die Gemma! Do you know what happens if that pill you swallowed cracked? Do you even care about your family? Are you drinking again too?"

"I've haven't had a drink in three years!"

"You're a drug addict, a drunk, and a liar!" I feel a pain in my heart. This is what she thinks of me.

"I am not a drug addict!"

"Yes you are! This is what we sent you to rehab for Gemma! Not for you to start up again—"

"We? Why do you keep on trying to insert yourself in a situation where you never were? Where were you when I needed you when Marty died? Where were you when mom threatened to turn me in to the police if I didn't go to rehab? When she kept me from Marty's funeral? Where the hell were you when I was in the hospital after trying to kill myself? Can you explain that?"

"Oh don't start this shit up again Gemma! I was there with everyone else! If I hadn't told mom about the first time you tried to kill yourself, you'd probably be dead now! I did it because I care! Who knows what could have happened if Holly J. hadn't have come home when she did. You'd be dead. Gone. God! Did you ever use around Marty?"

"Don't you _dare_ bring _my son_ into this! I never used around Marty! Do you know what it was like? Being a single mother is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life! Bruce was gone, my family shuns me, and then I have Chase controlling my every god damn move! I made sure Marty never saw any of that!"

"No but you let him be exposed to the environment. What else have you done? Cocaine, meth, heroin?"

"You know I don't even like water up my nose sometimes and I'm terrified of needles. So, no I haven't used cocaine, meth, or heroin."

"But you can do pills? Is that why you were so bitchy to get out of the car? You were fucking high again? Answer me!"

I turn away from her to face the bathroom wall. It seems to become farther and farther away the more I stare. I sit down on the edge of the tub. It's cold and hard. Rachel sits down next to me on the tub.

"How long since Pine Meadows?" she asks softly.

Pine Meadows is the rehabilitation clinic I went to. It's in Palm Springs, California. In the middle of nowhere. And when I say 'middle of nowhere' I mean desert and the occasional tumble weed. They try to be serene and calming. To be honest, Pine Meadows did help a little. We sat around in circles and talked about our problems. I thought I was going crazy. I started using again after the last incident with Chase.

I take a deep breath, "Two weeks after I got out," I say.

"Oh my god," Rachel sighs into her hands.

I laugh grimly. "It's funny because in rehab, they tell you to deal with the real world. Dealing with the 'real world' is how I started up again."

We sit in silence for a while. I wonder if she understands what I'm going through. I bet she doesn't. She's never understood anything about me. The only times when she's actually cared is when she felt guilty about something she did. Pine Meadows wasn't to help me, it was so she could feel good about something she did wrong in the past. Which time was it for? The time she said Marty's death was my fault or when she wanted to paint a red A on my hospital gown for having Bruce's baby? Or if you really want to get psychological, the time she told me that Bruce was dead. I've got plenty more.

Rachel takes a deep breath. "Listen Gemma, you…as much as I love you," I scoff. "You can't stay here when you are doing drugs."

"Fine."

"Fine."

We sit in silence for a while once more. Rachel hands me the pill bottle. I snatch it from her. "What do you want me to do with this?"

"Flush it," she says.

I ogle at her because now she has grown two heads. Rachel shakes the pills at me. I raise an eyebrow.

"What do you mean 'flush it'?"

"What does it sound like? I'm not going to let you kill yourself."

"Are you going to let me keep my depression and sleeping pills? I'm not really abusing those."

I play with the bottle in my hands. Can I really let this go? It feels good when everything goes away, but the more I push Rachel away, the harder it is to be accepted by her. That's what I've wanted for the longest time. Giving this up is the first step. I don't want to be that person that can never go back to their family.

I stand up from the tub and hover over the toilet. I uncap the bottle and pour the pills inside the toilet, each hitting the water one by one. As I watch the tiny substances float in the water, Rachel comes up behind me and flushes. They swirl around in the bowl until they go down the hole. Gone. Just like that.

"I won't tell," Rachel whispers.

My head snaps to her. She pleads with her eyes for me to not argue with her. I don't argue and she doesn't tell. I nod my head in silence. I open the bathroom door and walk out. The door to my room is half way open. I push it open more and step inside. The room is the same as I left it. I close the door and lean against. I slump down to the floor. I hold my knees to my chest.

I never used to be like this. Dependent on drugs and medication to force me to be happy. Am I that messed up? I can't really be a drug addict. I'm not that type of person. Junkies are drug addicts. The man on the corner who has white powder on his nose is a drug addict. Not me. Where has my life gone? When had I even started this? It couldn't have been when Marty was alive. I can't remember. Humph. Marty. That kid was a born star. I just knew he was going to do great things. If only I could have gotten him to the hospital sooner.

I pull myself off the floor. Right now, all I want to do is sleep. Yeah, that's all I need to do. Sleep. I reach in my suitcase and take out a pair of forest green boxers and a deep royal blue button down shirt. I always wear these when I'm feeling sad. Which is most of the time. It had been raining cats and dogs when Bruce gave me his clothes. It was so wet outside the roads were closed until the next morning IF the drains were cleared in time. I can remember the first time I smelled his clothes. Laundry fresh with the scent of Snuggle's new scent.

I take off my clothes and dress in his. The feeling is familiar, which is what I need most right now. Some familiarity is always a good thing. I can get over how long it has been since Marty. Eight years have almost passed. I was so messed up. I was high all the time. Prescription and alcohol really made me numb after he died. Tina forced me into rehab. Alex was too distraught to do anything. And…that bitch of a so-called 'mother' kept me away from my own son's funeral. She told the police I was a risk. Marty had a closed casket.

I pull down the covers on the bed and jump in. I leave the light on. It makes me feel like I'm not alone. Sleep comes faster when you have someone to share it with.

_I chew my fingernail roughly between my teeth. The white plastic sticks hitting the palm of my hand as I shake them with nervous hands. I got five tests in case this time. The first three had all been positive, but you can never be too sure with these things. I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I thought I had been careful. That we had been careful—take that back. I can't remember if Bruce had worn a condom or not. Shit. I put the stick on the bathroom counter. My eyes find the big and bright pink plus signs on all five of the tiny screens. _

_Pregnant. _

_See you in 9 months!_

_:)_

_Positive. _

_With Bruce Wayne's baby. Bruce Wayne who hasn't been seen or heard from in months. But—but pregnancy tests can always be mistaken. They aren't all really 99.9% accurate. Just like you can't be 99.9% accurate he wore a condom either._

_Two Weeks Later…_

"_Gemmaline Dawes?" the nurse calls my name. I spring up from my chair almost knocking it over. The nurse smiles at me like she knows a secret. I don't think she's ever been pregnant with Bruce Wayne's baby. I follow her down the hospital hallway. She stops at a room at the end of the hallway. The door is wide open, revealing an office. A nametag on the desk reads Dr. Phyllis Tariq. Wow. I actually get to see my doctor today._

"_Dr. Tariq will be with you in a few moments," the nurse says. I walk inside scared shitless. Two soft leather seats are in front of the glossy wooden desk. The nurse closes the door. I never thought I'd be here trying to find out if I was pregnant, at least not anytime soon. I sit down in the chair at an awkward angle. I can't keep still. I'm more nervous now than I had been when I peed on those sticks at home._

_The door opened swiftly. Dr. Tariq comes in carrying a tan file in her hands. She holds her head up high with pride. "Gemmaline! If I knew you were coming in today, I would have come in earlier."_

_I clear my throat. "It is kind of an important time."_

"_Obviously," she says sarcastically. Dr. Tariq opens the file and her eyes widen. "Your HCG levels are extremely high. Are you…Have you had sex?"_

"_Yes," I say slowly._

"_With whom?" she presses._

"_Do I really need to tell you that?"_

"_Gemma I'm your doctor. It's the law to keep the things you tell me secret. According to this you're two months pregnant."_

_Hearing Phyllis say the words instead of a piece of plastic staring me down with pee on it, it finally sinks in. I'm pregnant with Bruce's baby. Really pregnant with Bruce's baby. How am I going to do this when I don't even know where he is? A baby can't grow up without a father. It needs both parents to care and protect it. I can't do that with just me._

"_I don't know how it happened. I was taking my pills everyday."_

"_Birth control pills can sometimes make mistakes. Were you sure whoever the father is, was wearing a condom?"_

"_No. It was sort of in the heat of the moment."_

"_That's what they all say. 'Its okay, I only go bareback. I'll pull out I promise. You can't get pregnant'" Phyllis mutters. She flips her short brown hair. "Who is the father Gemma?"_

_I take a deep breath and hesitate to answer. "Bruce. Bruce Wayne."_

"_Wayne who?"_

"_Bruce Wayne, Phyllis. It's Bruce Wayne."_

"_Bruce Wayne is the father of your baby?" she screams. I jump in my seat._

"_Phyllis! Can you not yell out my business? Yes he is. Oh god, what am I going to do? I haven't seen him in months."_

"_When was the last time you saw him?"_

"_I don't know. Late May, early June I suppose. April? What am I going to do?"_

_Phyllis sighs and leans back into her chair. She swings the stethoscope around her neck in her hands. "You have three choices at this point. You can carry the baby to full term and keep it, carry it to full term, and then decide if you want adoption—"_

"_Absolutely not. I was adopted and I don't want my baby going through the same things I did." I close my eyes so hard I can see small dots behind them. I know the other option. I don't want to hear it. There has to be another way._

"_Then there is abortion," Phyllis says softly._

_For sick reasons, my ears perk up at the mention of abortion. It can be my way out. I don't want to be a mother. Not right now. I want to live. But this could be the last living Wayne. Bruce could be dead. I do want to spend the rest of my life with him, but not like this. What if I can't love the baby as much as I want to? I don't want to be a failure for someone who needs me everyday._

"_Does it hurt? In health the teacher said it was kind of painful."_

"_I'm not going to lie; it is painful. You are numb for the procedure but as any medical procedure, there can be painful and emotional side effects. It's highly recommended that you don't go alone."_

_My hand flies to my stomach. I have a living being inside of me. Growing. But…how can I love it when I don't even love myself some of the time? How can I support a baby with a minimum wage job? I can't do it alone. I don't want the baby to go through the system. Wondering who I am. Getting passed from home to home. I can't do it._

"_When's the soonest you can make me an appointment?" I ask disgusted._

Saturday…

The alarm rings at the highest volume. My head swarms with the unruly noise. My hand reaches to turn it off. I haven't had that dream in a while. Whenever I do, I wonder if I made the right choice. The thought never leaves me alone. I ended giving up my career for Marty. And for other reasons. In March of 99' a got a letter from Rip Curl, one of the sponsors at an exhibition two weeks before. They were asking me to sign on. Of course I still wanted to work with animals but surfing was my thing. It made me different. It gave me something I could be good at for all the right reasons. A connection to my real family.

I immediately signed not bothering to tell Tina or Alex. Rachel found out, of course by being nosey, so she was there when I signed. Then I got pregnant. And you can't have a pregnant girl for the new face of Rip Curl with a messed of family life. It's the darnest thing because I don't remember telling anyone at Rip Curl that I had a messed up family. Or that I was having a baby. Not once did the words leave my mouth.

There is nothing I can do about it now. I'm just another has-been. I throw the sheets off of me and hop out of bed. I don't bother to look in the mirror. I stride across the room and open the door and then I take the stairs very slowly until I get to the kitchen. As always, Rachel and Harvey are sharing food and telling each other gooey remarks of love and compassion. Do they notice me? Am I that invisible to the world? I clear my empty throat waiting for them to finish their business. Rachel peaks up at me and blushes. Harvey looks very unsatisfied with my entrance. Well take that shit upstairs mister. This is a PG-13 zone in the kitchen, its fair game down here.

"Good morning Gemma," Rachel says. She stands from her chair and takes a coffee cop from the counter. She hands it out to me.

"You didn't lace this with rat poison did you?" I ask.

"No I laced it with Raid it's the only way I take my coffee. Of course I didn't lace it with rat poison! I can find other ways."

"I'm sure you can," I say holding the cup up to my nose. It smells like vanilla flavored Coffee Mate; my favorite flavor. The smell reminds me of when I was a little girl and I would like smelling dad's coffee. Before he became Alex. He only used vanilla cream and when he ran out, he drank it black. I've tried that, its nastiest thing you ever want to drink.

"What is the agenda for today?" Harvey asks us.

"I thought you guys had to do trial crap today," I say.

"We can always do that later. I thought me and you could go dress shopping for the fundraiser on Wednesday," Rachel says.

"Don't you have enough dresses?"

"A girl can never have too many dresses."

"How can I forget? You bought five dresses for prom when mom told you to buy one. Then took four back to exchange three."

Rachel huffed then put her hand on her hip. "Do you want to go or not?"

"Does it mean getting out of this house?"

"Yes."

"Then last one up the stairs is a rotten egg."

Running up the stairs with my sister is something that I haven't done in years. When we were kids everything was always a simple race. Then it became more of a competition for attention and it wasn't fun anymore. Now we're racing up the stairs the day after Rachel calls me out for getting high in her bathroom. I was not getting high. I just felt the need to take something to make me feel better. She's wrong. I am not an addict. Addicts can't stop. I can stop whenever I want. I was clean for eight months. I can be clean for another eight, easy as that.

We reach the top of the stairs at the same time. But who can be sure. "I win!" Rachel shouts. I can see that she thinks she won. Clearly I made it up the stairs before she did. However, I do not want to argue with her at the moment.

"Good for you," I say. Rachel smirks at me like she used to when we were kids. I hate it when she does that. I need to be the bigger person. I turn away from her and start walking to my room.

"Oh I almost forgot to tell you," Rachel begins. "A truck came by at six and dropped off your car. The keys are on the table by the front door." Rachel smiles sweetly and goes to her and Harvey's room. I'm really hoping that Jay didn't send me a car without tinted fucking windows.

I sit and wait for Rachel on the couch in the living room. Harvey is still in his wifebeater and gym shorts. Thank god the man is modest. I've been around men wearing nothing but their boxers before. T.J. never put any clothes on when he didn't have to. He ate Fruity Pebbles on the couch, drank orange juice from the BRAND NEW carton, and clipped his nasty fungus infested toenails at the KITCHEN TABLE. I've seen it all. At least Bruce would throw his away. I don't know what I feel for Harvey seeing him 'undone'. It can't be attraction. Harvey is like a brother to me. Then again, he is very handsome. Golden blonde hair, a chiseled face, and a charming attitude. A girl would be crazy if she wouldn't want to date Harvey Dent. But he's Rachel's boyfriend. And he wants to marry her, and start a family with her. What's so great about Rachel anyway? She can be a pushy bitch sometimes. Okay, most of the time. And she hides a lot of things from me. What is she hiding from Harvey?

"Hey Gemma?" Harvey's voice calls. I lift my eyes from the television and turn to his direction.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Do you think I'm making the right choice? I mean, about marrying Rachel."

I don't know if I should answer this question. I don't want to rip my sister apart. I don't want to appear bitter and jealous. I don't know. It's really not my place to say in the first place. Their relationship is none of my business. I decide to answer anyway.

"You should go for it. Rachel is love with you so much it disgusts me. And I love romantic comedies."

"I haven't bought a ring yet. I don't know if she'd like something expensive or vintage."

"Personally I don't understand why she would say no. you are a great guy, you have a job, you have hair, a great smile, and a bold presence. Harvey you are a hottie with a body. And a brain to match. Perfect."

Harvey's gaze meets mine. And for a second I can feel something inside. Only a second. I bite my lip and look down at my hands nervously to hide the blush creeping up my face.

"I've never been called perfect before," Harvey says.

"Well, uh, you should take it as a compliment."

"Thanks. It's been really great having you here. I know you hate Gotham, but I hope you will stay longer than anticipated. It really is a great city."

"I'll think about," I say to get him off my back for the time being. I hear footsteps climbing down the stairs. Rachel steps into the living room flawlessly polished wearing a pearl necklace Tina got her two Christmas's ago, diamond earrings, a Burberry purse, shoes by a designer I can't pronounce, and a sweater dress I saw in Elle last month. Are we still going shopping? 'Cause she is going to the fucking White House.

"Why are you dressed like that?" I ask. 

"Dressed like what?" she asks back.

"Like that. All glitzed up. I thought we were going shopping."

"I can't look good?"

"I didn't think formal was in for going to the mall."

"Just because I look nicer than you, does not mean you need to be jealous Gemmaline," Rachel says referring to my casual attire, consisting of a purple tank-top, a grey flannel button down shirt, black leggings, and red ballet flats, with an eco-friendly canvas tote bag with a teddy bear on it. I thought I looked regular. Apparently I need to be dressed up to go nowhere.

"Can you please not badger me with my lack of pearl necklaces and silk tunics?" I ask rhetorically. I stand up from the couch and stretch my arms. Maybe this is a bad idea. Rachel and I haven't had sisterly bonding in a really long time. The last time we tried a mediator was there for our relationship therapy and we both ended up in tears.

"If we leave now without any other problems, we can get to the mall and get out in record time."

"Fine," I say.

Rachel strides uncomfortably to the front door, I behind her. She picks up the car keys on the table and hands them to me. "I thought you might want to give your new car a spin before the Monday traffic," she says. I take—more like snatch—the keys from her. A little rudely I might add. Rachel unlocks the door and storms outside. What is her problem now? I can't have done anything to make her upset again in that little amount of time. She didn't even say goodbye to Harvey.

"Bye Harvey," I tell him.

"Bye. I'll see you later. Oh let me get the door," he answers from the couch in the same spot, flipping the channels between ESPN and DIY Network. He finally leaves the imprinted cushion and makes his way over to the door. He reaches for the door knob at the same time I push the door in. Our hands touch for a millisecond and for that one millisecond, I feel a shock.

I gasp and shake my fingers. Harvey laughs and says, "I guess there is a spark between us!"

How totally lame. I smile to make him feel better about his dumb joke. "It was very electrifying." And for another millisecond, I can't help but think about the fluttery feeling I got when we made skin to skin contact. Eww, that sounds gross.

I leave him staring at the door. Sisters are not supposed to feel feelings for her sister's boyfriend. It's the code of sisterhood. I've broken it more than once. Turning around, I see a white Audi Q7 with a big red bow on the hood. The best part is that it has tinted windows.

**OOH! I wonder who that strange man was…**

**You take a guess! Please Review! I know I've been away for a while. Please enjoy this.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Been away for a super long time! Had major writer's block and school didn't help. So here is a much deserved chapter!**

**WARNING: This chapter contains a sexual assault. If it bothers you don't read the last part. It is also a serious matter in our world. Never think you are alone.**

**The song for this chapter is 'Someone Like You' by Adele. If you have any song suggestions for the next chapter let me know and I will dedicate that chapter to you :) **

**Please review. If my story is as good as you guys say it is then leave a review telling me :) **

**GOAL: My new goal is earn ten reviews or more in one chapter.**

**P.S.: school gets out in three weeks so I look forward to updating more. **

Chapter Nine: Someone Like You.

Gemma's POV

_I hold Marty close to my chest as I lift him out of his stroller. I'm still getting used to being a mother. The days are long and the nights are longer. Holly and Crystal have actually managed to put aside their differences for a change. They switch shifts and help me when Marty wakes up in the middle of the night. I never knew Crystal could be so good with children. I guess pigs will start flying next. Marty grabs my hair with his tiny hands and pulls._

"_Don't pull mommy's hair," I tell him. His innocent eyes stare back at me. Not green but not brown. He really is half and half. I reach for the binky pinned to his onesie. I put in his mouth. I roll the stroller by the closet. Holly found this therapy group for single parents. This is my first meeting. It's in the Venice Beach area._

"_Is this where the strollers are kept?"_

_I turn around and see and man holding a baby. He's dressed in a wrinkly red plaid shirt, worn jeans, and black construction boots. The 5 o'clock shadow on his face highlights the dark hair on his head and the structure of his face._

"_I guess so. This is my first time here," I say._

"_Mine too. I thought it'd be kind of embarrassing though since I'm a man. Usually it's the other way around doing things like this," he says. "What's your story?"_

"_He abandoned me when I was pregnant, granted I found out before he disappeared. A while later I found out he was dead. Did she leave too?"_

"_Yeah. She signed full custody to me right after birth. She never wanted kids. I…well; it's my job to look after this little guy. I named him Danny. After his grandfather."_

"_This is Marty. I liked the name."_

"_He's adorable. You didn't tell me your name."_

_I shift Marty to my left hip and hold out my hand. "Gemma Dawes. Yours?" I ask. The man grips my hand in a tight grip._

"_Jack Napier."_

"What do you think about this dress Gemmzie?" The sound of Rachel's concern of her dress choices breaks me out of the memory. Rachel holds up a too bright yellow dress with ruffles around the chest area and down by the legs.

"I think it's a little late for Halloween don't you?" I ask.

"I think your right. Yellow just isn't my color. What about…green…?"

Jack Napier had been my first 'official' friend in Los Angeles. Steffy and I became really close over the short amount of time they lived in the complex. Marty and Harry loved playing with each other from what I could tell. We had no problems. It baffled me when I didn't see them for a few days. I didn't think it was business. By the time I asked the landlord what happened he said they moved out, skipping out on two months rent. I never saw them again.

"Gemma? Are you feeling okay?" Rachel asks. She holds her hand to my forehead in a motherly fashion.

"Positively fine, it's only the fifth store we've been in, the last half hour."

"Why are you such a smart ass?"

"Believe me Rachel, I've been asking that question for twenty years now. Oh well, can't change me now."

She shows me another dress from the rack. It's a simple black dress with a heavily beaded neckline of a white flower. "I get to kill two birds with one stone," she says. Rachel picks up another dress, black also. Its one shouldered dress with the other strap around the upper arm. "I think I'm going to try these on. Meet me in the fitting room, okay?"

I nod at Rachel's order. She leaves me in the rack of dresses alone. My hand sifts through the numerous dresses absentmindedly. A sparkle of silk and peach catches my eye. I take the dress of the rack and examine it more closely. It's silk and feels smooth under my skin. The back is extremely low cut and the front has a cowlneck line. I throw it over my arm. The next dress I find is a long, flowing halter dress in a beautiful champagne color. I throw that one over my arm too. I dig in my purse and take out a pack of M & M's I got from a friendly vending machine and pop a handful in my awaiting mouth.

"Mr. Wayne! I hadn't realized you'd be in today."

I bite my tongue hard and make a unwanted squeal. Bruce and the blonde bimbo he's talking to look in my direction. I quickly lower myself to the floor and hide. On my hands and knees, I push open the dresses so I can peek safely. The woman is very pretty. She has golden blonde hair, not like Crystal's, but more yellow. She's fairly skinny and has a sun-kissed glow radiating from her aura. Tanning Bed. Her eyes are a silvery blue color with thick lashes and ruby red lips. Her nametag reads Sloane.

And then I look at Bruce; Drool on the side of his mouth, boner in his pants, and word vomit coming up his throat. He always falls for those types of girls. It's a wonder he even gave me the time of day. He's dressed in an all black suit with a white shirt, black tie, and black Italian shoes.

"I came to pick up my suit. The one I had custom made for Wednesday," he says. Wednesday? The only social event happening on Wednesday is…oh no.

"The Armani one, correct?" Sloane asks. I can practically see her tongue enunciating every syllable in a suggestive tone. Her French manicured hand reaches up to lightly touch the buttons on her blue shirt.

"The one and only."

"I'll have it out in a minute. Just you wait, Mr. Wayne."

Sloane walks away from Bruce. It is not surprising to me that she is practically throwing herself and him. She's his type from head to toe. The more I think about it the more I want to ring her—

"What are you doing?"

I turn my head to see Sloane standing above me with her hands on her tiny hips. I give her a small smile that can't honestly grow from ear to ear. I stand up. "Is there, a um, register open. I don't need to try it on. I'll just take it back if I decide I don't want it," I say nervously. Sloane gives me the once over. As if I need approval from her. I had Wayne first…I'm not his first but I saw him first. No one likes sloppy seconds.

"Sure. A register is right over there," she says and points to a counter behind me. "Excuse me I have a client right now."

"I bet you do," I mutter. I begin my journey to the register.

"Gemma?"

Shit. Fuck. The voice makes me stop in my tracks. I give a hard sigh and turn around. Bruce stands there smugly with his hands inside his pockets. He stalks to me and I step back.

"What are the dresses for?" he asks.

"Mind your business Bruce, please, for once," I say. I turn back around and put the dresses on the counter. The older woman behind the register smiles at me.

"Is this all for you today miss?" she asks. I nod fast.

"Yep. This is it, so if you could just ring it up and that will be it."

Bruce reaches above my shoulder and peeks at the price tags. "Gemma do you know how much these cost?"

"Yes, Bruce God damn it. Can you back off? It's not like I can't afford it." I check the tags; $1100 for the peach and $1800 for the champagne. "Woah! I mean…that is a significantly towering amount. That's okay; it's not like I can't afford it. I've saved my pennies."

"No," Bruce says sternly. He takes out his leather wallet and slaps down his black AmEx card. "I won't let you. Let me pay for it Gemma."

The woman takes the credit card and examines it through her glasses. "We all know you're Bruce Wayne, no need for an I.D."

I snatch the plastic from her hands. "No Bruce, you are not paying for me. I am a big girl. I know how to manage my money." I push the card to his chest and for a moment, _**just a moment**_; my hand rests on the hard muscle beneath. It's more firm than I remember. I blush and pull my hand away. The woman's glasses slide down her nose.

"You two know each other?" she asks.

"No," I say as the same time Bruce says, "Yes."

"Listen sweetheart, this man is begging to pay for you. **SHUT-UP**. If I had a dollar for every man that asked to pay my way, I'd be richer than Wayne and the fucking Queen to put together. Take this advice sweetie, please. It will better your life. You need to learn how to zip it and keep it zipped."

"That's nice, really. Can you just—"

"I've been married to my husband for thirty-five years, **THIRTY-FIVE YEARS**, and not once did he bother to ask to pay, I couldn't get him to initiate to take out his checkbook."

"I really don't think its necessary—"

"Toots, the richest man in Gotham, the country—"

"I wouldn't say the country—"

"The world, the universe, is offering to pay for two dresses. This is chump change to him. Drop your pride. This will never happen again. **SHUT-UP**."

I take out my wallet from my purse and thumb through my cards. I give the woman my employee credit card and she smacks my hand away. Bruce gives her his card and she willingly accepts. He signs the receipt with pride. I roll my eyes and throw my head back with a grunt. Bruce hands me bag. It hangs in the air waiting for me. Bruce takes my hand and puts the bag in it. My arm falls limp at my side.

"Why must you be so stubborn?" he asks. I open my mouth to respond and close it. "You don't need to pay me back. It was a friendly favor."

"I am not stubborn, Bruce. I didn't need for you to pay for me. I have a job of my own. As soon as this job is done, I'm out on the first flight back to L.A."

"You're not…you're not staying?"

"…no. I'm not. What would make you think I am? I didn't come out here for family Bruce, if that's what you think. I came out here for business."

"It's not surprising I didn't know you aren't staying. Rachel didn't tell me you were coming anyway."

I see a flash of sadness in his features. Then I really take a glance at him. His eyes have dark circles like he hasn't had a full eight hours sleep in ages. And there is a scar from a cut on his forehead. Whatever he does at Wayne Enterprises is killing him.

"Bruce! I didn't know you'd be here." Rachel comes out of nowhere carrying her shopping bag in one hand and her purse in the other. "I see you two have met up. Gemma did you find a dress—"

"Yes, Rachel. I found a dress. Can we go? Please?"

"Don't you want to look for—"

"No."

"Are you sure—"

"Yes."

Rachel checks her watch for the time. "It's only two. I still need to get shoes and maybe we can go eat. Harvey will be fine for a couple of more hours—did I miss something?"

I shake my head. "No. Bruce was just being himself. Once again."

"Sticking his nose where it doesn't belong?"

"I wouldn't call it sticking it where it doesn't belong. I was being very observant," he says. "Rachel, are you going to Gotham's Most Important party on Wednesday? I heard in the paper that you would attend?"

"Why does it matter if she's going or not?" I cut in.

Rachel glares at me and says, "Yes I'm going. The invitation came in last week. I was surprised that out of all the people in Gotham, Harvey and I weren't left out. Even Gemma got one."

"Gemma? You got invited?" Bruce asks.

"Why else would I be buying a dress? My boss is making me go to represent him. I don't know why he didn't choose one of his oh-so-fabulous executives. They know more of the company than I do," I say.

Bruce furrows his eyebrows together. "Why did you have two dresses?"

"I liked it. Plus you never know when you might need a dress. Rachel we should get going. My stomach is beginning to growl. You know how I am when I'm hungry."

I leave them and walk out of the store, into the parking garage. Why, why, why is he always around? Once I find him when I'm not looking for him, or when he finds me, he's like a fly that won't die. I won't lie; it did feel a bit nice to have his attention all to myself. But as soon as Rachel comes over, oh well all the spotlight has to be on her. It's sickening. It is mind-boggling, **MIND-BOGGLING**, how much he is like a whiny puppy when it comes to Rachel. Can't he see that she is obviously taken, at the moment? Here I am, the mother of his dead child, who'd been there through it all, and I'm treated like a second class citizen. It isn't fair for Rachel to keep leading him on like she is really going to break up with Harvey to be with Bruce. She needs to flat out tell him that she in L-O-V-E with H-A-R-V-E-Y and be done. Then Bruce and I can work on what relationship there is left for us, and call it a fucking day. But that'd be too easy, wouldn't it? All three of them are fucking idiots.

I take out the car keys from my purse and unlock the doors. Throwing my stuff inside, I get in the driver's seat and wait for Rachel. I look out the window at them. Still in the store, standing close together, she reaches up to hug him; a hug that lasts a bit too long for my taste. I rest my head against the cold window.

"_Mom! MOM!" I shout from the kitchen._

"_What is it Gemmaline?" Tina asks. She comes in from the living room with a mixing bowl in her arms, arms furiously mixing whatever she will be baking for later. Her hair is in a mess sitting on top of her head and she still has her fuzzy slippers on. I notice the absence of Alex's shouting at the television. It must have been another fight. They've been having a lot of those lately. Usually at night. Rachel tries to keep my mind focused on something else than the yelling._

"_Holly J. just called. She wants to know if I'm going to the sleepover tonight at her mom's new apartment."_

"_That expensive one in downtown Gotham? Near the park?"_

"_Yeah. Her mom and some of her friends will be there. It's kind of a divorce party too."_

"_Which husband is that again? Number two?"_

"_Three. But who's counting?"_

_Tina eyes the front door and see's my bags already sitting comfortably. "I see you've already packed," she says. I nod. "I guess you could go—oh shoot. Rachel has my car and your father just left to go to the hardware store. Can one of your friends pick you up?"_

"_Gladys told Holly that there was no way she could drive the Mercedes without an adult driver."_

"_That's very adult of her. Probably the only adult thing she's done."_

"_I can take the train. It wouldn't take that long. Plus I think they started running the express shuttle in the evenings."_

"_I don't know Gemmaline. You know how I feel about the city. It's just too dangerous as it is in the day. What kind of mother would I be if I let my sixteen year old daughter take the train to a friend's house at night?"_

"_The best kind."_

"_No, absolutely not."_

"_But mom! Everyone will be there. I'll take the stupid mace. I'll be fine. It's like a ten minute walk from here, a five minute ride, and two blocks is the apartment building."_

"_Gemmaline I said no. That's final. Call Holly and tell her you can't come. And take your bags upstairs. Your father likes to put his shoes there."_

_With that, she leaves the room. I huff and open the refrigerator. Alex's half full Bud Light sits on the second shelf from earlier. I take it out and take a nice, big gulp. Eek. Not the best drink on earth. I put it back on the shelf and close the door with a thud. I pick up the phone. Halfway through the number I think. I can just leave. I put the phone on the hook. Taking baby steps, I peek in the living room. Tina is following the steps of the chef on the TV screen. I tiptoe to the door and pick up my bags. Taking another check to see if is was still in her spot, I climb the stairs to my room. Now all I have to do is wait._

**Bruce**

Bruce approached Gemma's new car with Rachel by his side. "So her boss got her a brand new car? Just like that?" he asked. It confused him how her boss had gotten her a car. And why? Did he have feelings towards her? Bruce felt the oh-so-familiarity of jealously creep up behind him and make another victim. He couldn't think of one moment when he wasn't protective of Gemma. He didn't want to admit it could be more than just a brotherly type of protectiveness for the longest time.

"Bruce it's not like that. Her boss is some fifty-year old man who's been married eight times. His new wife is younger than Gemm. As disturbing as it is, Jay Parkman wouldn't lay a finger on her. I've met him," Rachel said.

"You have? I haven't even met him."

"It was only briefly. Anyway, I should get back to the car. Gemma is probably thinking of ways to complain how we're ignoring her."

"I'll walk you." Bruce placed his hand on the small of her back. He held the door open for her as she mumbled a 'thank you'. "How's the case going?"

"Right now it's at a stand still unless we have a new lead. We don't have enough for a solid case that Maroni's lawyer can't get him off scot free, but it's enough for a trial."

"I'm proud of you Rachel. Never scared to take out a few mobsters."

"The law can't stop for them."

Bruce and Rachel approached the car in completely different attitudes. Rachel's was annoyed at her sister, while Bruce admired the cuteness of the situation. Gemma had her head leaning up against the window, fast asleep. Her hair covered her head and Bruce felt his hand twitch with an urge to push it back.

"So like her to fall asleep. What has it been? Five minutes? Gemm could never stay awake in cars. I guess I'm driving home today," Rachel said. She opened the door and Bruce stepped in to catch Gemma before she smacked her head on the pavement. His muscles hurt from recent outings but he didn't hold back. He laid her head in the crook of his neck and her breath tickled his skin. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she moaned childishly. Like it was forgotten of her hatred toward him. Bruce carried her to the other side and opened the door. He gently let her down in the seat and buckled her in. Closing the door, he met Rachel on the other side. She rolled the window down.

"Anything else?" Rachel asked.

Bruce shook his head. "No…actually yes. Why didn't you tell me about Gemma?"

"It wasn't my place to. Whatever relationship you two have is none of my business. Listen Bruce…I don't want to stand in the way of you two okay. The last thing I want to do is cause more trouble. I see how it hurts her. You fawning over me…it only hurts her more and more. I'm with Harvey now. I plan to keep it that way."

"What happened to your promise?"

"…Gemm needs you. You need her. I know you have a not so great past but this will be good for you. Stop denying your feelings."

"What feelings? Rachel come off that."

"I can see the way you look at her. Whether you acknowledge it or not or if she even gets past her childish anger I can see it. Just tell her. Before it's too late and someone else comes in and decides they won't wait—" Rachel stopped herself before she got upset more than she was. She pinched the bridge of her nose to ease the pressure from the oncoming headache. "I should get her home. I'll keep her updated on this conversation later when I don't feel like I want to punch you right now." She reached inside her purse for a napkin and a pen. Bruce watched her scribble words sloppily. Rachel grabbed his arm and violently slapped the napkin in his hand. "Here. This is her cell, email, the address of her office, work phone, and her new address after she moves out of my place. Don't know the apartment number."

Bruce pondered the last part of Rachel's speech. The address was for Wayne Towers. "Her apartment is going to be in Wayne Tower?" he asked.

With a sigh, Rachel said, "Yes. I have to go now. If you call and she gets angry she's just jumping for joy inside."

"Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

Bruce pocketed the information. He walked to his new red Ferrari. Rachel pulled out of the parking spot and maneuvered her way in front of Bruce's car. "Anything else I have to know Rachel?"

"One thing. No playboy antics. She can't stand you as it is. Please don't be stupid." The window rolled up and she drove out of the garage. Bruce didn't want to admit that Rachel was right. But how could a relationship so damaged bounce back? Bruce got into his car thinking of Gemma. She couldn't handle a life with him as the Batman. She couldn't keep a dry eye when the S.P.C.A commercials came on for donations. She wasn't strong enough. It wasn't fair to bring her in this mess. Not with the city falling apart. He couldn't put her through that again. Then he thought about her smile. It could light up a room. It had caught him and wrapped him around her finger. How if felt to have those smooth lips against his; the passion that ignited whenever they were near one another. The sexual tension was so intense it could set a room on fire. Bruce shook his head trying to erase the dream he once held.

_I never thought the Sunshine Scouts would come in handy. Thank god I actually paid attention when we learned rope tying. I finish tying my Monkey's Fist with my bed sheets and put it inside a crack in the wall. Checking the strength, I throw the rest of the sheets out the window. I pocket my I.D., credit card, and a crisp twenty in my pants. I climb out on the edge of the window. My hands feel slippery on the fabric. My feet leave the safety of the window and I dangle from the second story. I move my hands carefully down the sheet until my feet skim the ground. I kick Tina's garden gnome out of the way. The clay figurine shatters against the stone wall beneath the living room window. I let go of the sheet and I drop the few inches I have left. I tip-toe to the gate and unhook the latch. I close it softly behind me and walk to the end of the block._

_After about ten blocks of walking, I can see the dimly lit sign for the train. The streets are filthy with used needles, trash, and who knows what else. I go down the stairs to the train's entrance. A rat runs pass me and I fight the urge to squeal. It smells like sex and not in the good way down here. The walls are covered in graffiti and gang signs. The station agent is nowhere to be seen. I peer through the booth. A sign written in marker reads, 'Be back'. The station is deserted. My head is telling me to go back home while I still can. The speakers announce the arrival of the Q-Train for downtown. The train horn fills the air eerily. It stops in front of me and the doors open. I step inside. Completely empty, not a soul insight. I keep my nerves in check and sit down in a seat near the door._

_The ride is longer than I expected. The train's rickety frame doesn't help either as it comes to a stop. The doors open and I get out. The station is deserted expect for a few homeless. I hug my jacket closer to my body. A chill runs up my spine. I jog up the stairs halfway to the directory. The Q-Train's bright purple route—bright purple? Usually it is blue. The route for Train-99 was bright purple. My eyes follow the line leading to downtown. Fuck. Since when did the city change the route system? Then where am I? I traced the blue line with my finger. It led to the Narrows. I try to stay calm as panic starts to seep in my brain. The station isn't that far from the bridge to the city. All I have to do is keep moving and don't look back. Easy._

_I take the stairs two at a time. My hands go to my pockets to make sure I have my I.D. and credit card. Reaching the top of the steps, I come face to face with the other half of Gotham. The side left to its own. I run my hand through my hair nervously and zip up my jacket to my neck. I walk across the street, staying close to the streetlamps. I've only been to the Narrows three times before. Once for a field trip to help the community in 9__th__ grade, a visit to Arkham Asylum for Health Academy, and passing through for Sunshine scouts. Each time, the Narrows didn't seem that bad as it is now. Every city has a neighborhood infested with drugs and poverty. But how it is now, is on an entirely different level. It's worse than poverty. There are abandoned buildings that belong to Falcone, crack labs ready to blow, children starving, and who knows what else. It's sad._

_I hear the rumble of an engine behind me. My instincts are to stop and look back. I hold my breath in my lungs. My hands become clammy, in the not good way. The car pulls up beside me. It's a limo with all black including the windows. I already know who it is. The door opens and swings out like an invitation. I check my surroundings._

"_I think I'll pass. It's not that far," I say. Cuban cigar smoke blows out from inside of the car. I cough and wave the smoke from the air._

"_Get in the car Jewel," he orders. I roll my eyes and look around the limo for any lingering eyes. I slide into the smooth leather seat and close the door. The smoke fills the air rather fast, so I roll the window down._

"_You betta' put that window back up. Don't know who could be lurking around in this neck of the woods."_

_My fingers pull up on the button. The window rolls up slowly making the compartment pitch black. The only thing I can see is the outside street through the tinted glass. The limo pulls away from the curb. I relax into the seat. The ceiling light comes on brightly and then the moon-roof opens. Some of the smoke leaves._

"_Can you put that out? You're killing my lungs," I say coughing. He laughs._

"_It's good ta' see yous too Gemmaline. How long has it been? Ten years?"_

"_Two, actually. It's good to see you too…Uncle Sally."_

_Salvatore Maroni laughs again. He puts his cigar out in the ashtray and leans back in the seat. His legs cross and he rests his hands on his stomach. His gold Rolex watch shines in the light._

"_Look how much you've grown. Just like your mother. Now I have a question for you, sweetheart. What are God's holy earth are you doing walking around in the Narrows at night?" he shouts._

_I jump in my seat. Uncle Sally is always calm to me. He hardly ever gets a temper with me. Usually it is the rest of his phonies that get the other side of his wrath. I know he'd never hurt me but still. It can be a bit scary not knowing which attitude I've found him in. I had to do my own digging to find out who he was. He first sent a letter to the house with no return address. Then another letter and another after that, then another after that until I had ten letters in two months. Thinking back, if it wasn't Uncle Sally I had been writing back too, it could have definitely ended dangerously. On the tenth letter he sent back, I wrote back that I had surf practice and my mother wasn't going to be picking me up until an hour later. _

_We met at Gotham Central Park. I was on the swing when he approached me. The park had been empty that day. He showed me a picture of Mena. We looked so alike it was scary. I asked him about a D.N.A. test. He said he could spot a Maroni from a million miles away. It wasn't too long after that that the gifts began arriving. We started to hang out and then he asked me if I wanted to stay with Tina and Alex. I told him I wanted to stay but only for Rachel, Bruce, and Alfred. Uncle Sally didn't really back off the topic but he put it to rest enough. When I found out about his profession, I don't think I really understood. How much is there to know about running a bunch of losers? Apparently it is harder than it looks._

_I nervously swipe my hair behind my ear. "I was going to a party and—"_

_His eyes bug out of his head. "A PARTY? I can get you into any party on the east coast! Have you lost your mind? You know how dangerous this city is! If anything ever happened to you—do you know what would happen if anyone found out your relation to the mob world—do you know how much protection you'd need—sweet Jesus. It's that woman of yours isn't it? I knew it was wrong of me to let you stay in that fucking house once I found out you were a Maroni. I should have taken you when I had the chance."_

"_Kidnapping? I probably wouldn't have gone with you. And don't talk about Tina like that. She's the only mother I know."_

"_Mother? Listen to yourself Gemmy! You don't even refer to her as your mother. They are not your family. You are not a Dawes. You are a Maroni, through and through," he mumbles._

_It isn't the first time he's yapped my ears off with that 'you are a Maroni' nonsense. We talk mainly by phone and every so often I send him a copy of my grades or a picture so he stays current. I make sure to black out the name and cut my face out._

" _Letting my family walk around at night. Who does that woman think she is? That is not good parenting. I could do better than her! Hell, a monkey could do better than her! A crack head too!"_

"_It isn't her fault. She told me I couldn't go. So I…snuck out through my bedroom window. I went to the train but the city switched the routes and I ended up here."_

"_Are you insane? If you weren't family…where's this damn party at?"_

"_At my friend Holly J's house. Her mother is having a divorce party from the newest husband from her collection. It's in downtown Gotham at their new apartment. It's up the street from the business district and kitty corner to the Civic Center."_

"_I'll tell my driver to drop you off there. What about—whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up wheres do you thinks yous goin' dressed like some sleezy whore I hire, huh? Is this what you're wearing nowadays?"_

_I look down at my clothes. A pink midriff, black biking shorts, my favorite yellow Converses, a flannel yellow button down that was tied in the front under my chest, and a black leather jacket. I thought I looked fine._

"_They're just clothes Uncle Sal," I say. He shakes his head._

"_Clothes don't reveal your stomach like that. How about you close that shirt, huh? Show some respect for your self baby girl. You haven't forgotten the family motto have you?"_

"_How could I? 'A Maroni is always topnotch'. You've only said it thousands of times."_

_Uncle Sally lowered the privacy panel to reveal his driver. I can barely make out the color of his hair it's so dark in here. He does not turn around and he does not answer my uncle. Simply stares ahead at the ghost town empty street at the stop light._

"_Pull over at 9__th__ and Park. And step on it," Uncle Sally orders sternly. The man doesn't answer and closes the panel. "You see that gummy bear? That is called power. You enforce it, they'll listen." Uncle Sally opens a cabinet under the mini bar. He takes out a silver 9mm revolver and waves it around like a toy. "This is your dear old uncle's favorite g-u-n. Point and shoot, that's all it takes, gummy bear." He points the gun forward and pretends to shoot. Including sound effects. "POW! One bullet. Dead."_

"_You've used that before on someone?" I ask. I shift in my seat uncomfortably._

"_Who do you think I am Gemmaline? Of course I've used this. As a warning, as a punishment, you do what needs to be done."_

"_Don't you ever have, you know, like, demons following you? A conscience?"_

"_HA! Sweet pea, do I look like I have a conscience? Don't be like your mother, please, whatever you do. My sister, your mother, we had the same father but different mothers. I was three years old when my old man married her mother. By that time, the family business, as you know from those news gossips that can't mind their own 'The mob', 'The Mafia', or my personal favorite of recent years 'Cartel', was already established by my father's, father's father. The twenties and the Depression era was where we got deemed as the most ruthless. Anyways, your mother's family comes from the fishing village in Portugal, selling rotten stinky fish, whatever else. When it was my turn to take over many, many years ago, my father merged with the Falcone family. Some business got dirty, a few good words were said and what do you know, old man is nicked."_

"_How did you—"_

"_Don't interrupt the story teller. Where was I? Oh, old man gettin' nicked. So, Falcone's pops comes to me and fills my head with nonsense and all that shit. Then, oh boy, you want to know what this geezer says to me? He says, and I will neva' fo'gets this either, he says 'Sal, this is your time'. And I believed him every bit. So he took me unda' his wing, raised me as a son. Gave the business, pops and his, to his son while I take second in command behind Carmine. It's all one big circle Gemmaline."_

"_What does that have to do with mom?"_

"_I'm not finished. What are you learning in that school? Your mother wanted me to stay with her moms. To not get in the business. That wasn't a life, yada yada yada. I said I had to do what was right. In my eyes. She refused to speak to me. That was around the time your grandmother arranged for her to be married to old what's-it-whose it. Forgot his name. Dominican Republic, Harold, whatever the fuck his name is. Complete jerk. She ran away and I hadn't seen her until you. Didn't find out she was dead until you told me. Of course there was some bad blood with her family when I left. They accepted me again when I told them about you. I guess now…they've turned their noses. It's alright; they will come around…eventually…maybe not that fast. We were both banned from touching the soil of the village."_

"_That story wasn't at all depressing," I snort._

"_Don't be cheeky. You're lucky I even try with kids. Don't be like your douche bag cousin. My own son! Can't do a single thing right! What a fucking screw-up. but I love him, God knows why."_

_Uncle Sally plays with his gun some more making noises._

"_Would you put that thing away? It's disturbing."_

_His mouth drops open like he's shocked. "You are too soft. You need to be tougher. Goodness gracious if your grandfathers ever found out a Maroni was soft—lord!"_

"_I don't want to be in your business Uncle Sal. I want to have a normal life. I shouldn't even be having a relationship with you. Falcone is the reason my friend's parents are dead."_

"_Falcone is the reason why a lot of people are dead. Who are you talking about anyway? Who do you know—oh. Gemma, please, I'm begging, don't bring him up again."_

"_How can I just ignore that my family is the reason he's an orphan? Do you know how guilty that makes me feel?"_

"_How is it my fault his mommy and daddy are dead? Don't blame me!"_

"_It is too! If you and that stupid bastard you follow didn't run the fucking city in the ground Joe Chill wouldn't have shot them!"_

"_And someone else would."_

"_Don't say that! God! When are you going to see the light? You are just Falcone's lackey!"_

"_Hey! You better watch that mouth little girl," he says darkly. "Family or not, you will show me R-E-S-P-E-C-T."_

"_Sorry," I mumble. "I didn't mean it…well, I kind of did."_

"_I really want to know what those so-called parents are teaching you. I'm more of a father to you than your own biological father and that other phony. Sweetheart, I have no idea why you care for this Wayne loony."_

"_He's only loony because you drove him there—"_

"_What did I tell you about that mouth? There are a million guys better than him."_

"_But that's the thing! They aren't him!"_

"_Listen. The other day, Falcone comes to tell me a bit of gossip."_

"_What kind?"_

"_The usual."_

"_That means it's probably a lie."_

"_Do you want to know or not?" he asks. Uncle Sally takes a tooth pick from the bar and puts it between his teeth. I nod. "Falcone comes into the office about four days ago. He tells me that Wayne came into the bar after Chill's trial. Sat down at his table. They talked, which means two things; uno, Falcone won't tell what was said, and dos, Wayne was most likely off his knocker. Long story short, he pulls out a gun—"_

"_Falcone or Bruce?"_

"_Are you not learning anything in school? Who do you think? Of course Falcone!"_

"_Oh my god!"_

"_Relax. Pretty boy wasn't shot. The gun wasn't loaded. He did get snippy and that had to be taken care of. He was thrown out of the bar. Word on the street is no one's seen him since. Missing."_

_My uncle's words swim around in my head. Four days. That's why he left that night. I feel sick to my stomach. What if he did something drastic? I can't live with myself. "The last words I said to him were 'Don't come back'. What if he's dead?"_

"_What does it matter?"_

"_Because I love him Uncle Sally!"_

"_And what do you know about love?"_

"_More than you do. I'd die for him."_

"_I don't want to ever hear you say shit like that. EVER! You here me young lady? You are NOT dying for anyone."_

"_He would do the same."_

"_He told you this? Gemmaline you are living in a fantasy world. Nothing is perfect. Men are all the same. I'm one of them. They only say those things to get in your pants."_

_I blush furiously. "He's different."_

"_What is that supposed to mean? Are you—did you sleep with him?" he asks._

"_That is none of your business."_

"_Gemma, you didn't. You gave your innocence to that loser, that fool?"_

"_It was worth it. I'd do it again."_

"_I bet you would. Why? Why would you do something so retarded? You're not a retard. That was a retard move Gemma. Where is he now? Nowhere in sight."_

"_He'll come back. I know he will."_

_Uncle Sally sighs. I think he gives up on the topic of Bruce because he knows it will always be a battle. The limo pulls up to the 9__th__ street entrance of the park. It is beyond pitch black outside. There is no sign of the moon and no stars twinkling. The trees blew from the breeze._

"_Thanks for the ride Uncle Sally," I say. I open the door and put one foot in the cold._

"_Not so fast. You know I can't just let you go without a present from Uncle Sal. Here, take this. Think of it as a graduation present," he says as he reaches into his pocket and takes out a roll of money. All hundreds. He throws them in my lap._

"_What's this?"_

"_Are you hard of hearing? It's your present; five grand. Don't spend it all in one place."_

"_Are you serious? This is way too much Uncle Sally."_

"_Don't worry about it. Got it from Falcone. Said to give it to that beautiful, niece of mine."_

"_Did he really say that?"_

"…_No. But I did. That counts for something." I laugh and put the roll in my coat pocket. Getting out of the car, I look inside the park entrance. "Gummy bear, are you sure you want to walk all the way? I can tell this idiot driver to drop you off."_

"_No. Taking the park will go faster if I take the lake trail. Plus it saves you gas and its good for the environment."_

"_Screw the environment. You know, I should run for mayor of Gotham. Raise taxes, fire the police force, legalize drugs and assault—"_

"_**Goodnight**__ Uncle Sally."_

"_Goodnight sweet pea," he waves. "Hey! Fix your clothes, please. I don't want to kill one of my pimps for trying to—"_

"_Goodnight Uncle Sally." I close the door and walk to the entrance of the park. I hear the limo roll up beside me._

"_Clothes!" my uncle shouts._

_I undo the tie in my flannel shirt and pull it down to my waist. I wave at my uncle and he drives off. I make my way into the park. The twigs break under my feet. The wind blows coldly against my skin. I definitely should have changed clothes. I zip up my jacket and put my hands inside the pockets. I haven't worn this jacket in a long time. It had to many reminders of Bruce. The last time I wore it before now was the week before Bruce left for Princeton. My finger rubs against a sharp edge. I grip whatever is in my pocket and take it out._

_I should have left it in there. It's a crumpled photo-strip from when Bruce and I went to the photo booth at the boardwalk. He didn't want to have his photo taken but I convinced him to cough up the $1.50. The first shot is of me and him laughing. He told me he got a 'D' on his English paper. I said I wrote it so he could get a 'C'. Then he said, 'You pass for me to well Dawes. People might start believing I'm actually that dumb.' I said, 'The truth is hardly a newfound realization.' He tickled me until I couldn't breathe. The second picture is of us making funny faces. His nose is scrunched up and I crossed my eyes with my tongue out. The third picture is us putting bunny ears behind each others head. My other hand is between his cheeks. The fourth picture is a serious one of us. The fifth is me with my arms around his neck and playfully kissing his cheek. The sixth is us staring into each other's eyes. The seventh is us leaning into a kiss. The eighth is a light kiss. The ninth is a more heated kiss with his hands tangled in my hair. The last is me sitting on Bruce's lap away from the camera with his hands up my skirt._

_I hold back a small whimper of sadness. I don't want to feel sad. Bruce made his decision to leave. I can't hate him for it as much as I want to. I could never hate him. He'll probably be back in a couple of weeks anyway. He's had a lot to deal with. I fold the pictures up and stuff it back in the pocket._

"_Please don't hurt me! I'll have the money, I swear!" a man yells. My heart stops and my blood freezes. Right in front of me is a man down on his knees with another man holding a gun to his head. Execution style. I can't see either of their faces. They can't see me through the mass of bushes. My instincts kick in and I tiptoe behind a group of trees. I move a thick bush out of my sight to get a look. The man with the gun pistol whips the other._

"_I run a very important business. I gave you the supplies now I want my __**fucking**__ money!" the holder of the gun says._

"_I know. I'll have it by next week," the man says._

"_You said that last week. I'm meeting with him tomorrow and I've been told if I don't get the money, I get your head."_

_The gun cocked and loaded bullets in place. "Go ahead! I don't care what the fuck you do. You want to know where the money is. Half way to fucking—"_

_The man with the gun pulls the trigger. When you see a murder on television, it isn't the same as seeing it for real. Law & Order has nothing on it. It was like seeing life in slow motion. Your eyes can't believe what your head is telling you. The more you want to run the more you want to stay. The blood from the victim's head splattered out like dropping a soda on the floor. And he just slumped over like a rag doll while his murderer walked away with his gun hanging low like a badge of honor. I've done a lot of stupid things but this has to earn me a list on Uncle Sal's retard list. I calmly lift my head from the bushes. The coast is clear. I run quietly to the man's body. I turn him over and I want to vomit. There is a hole in the middle of his head with blood oozing out. At least his eyes are closed. I tap his pockets for some kind of wallet or identification. I find his wallet on the inside of his thin jacket. His driver's license says,_

_**Name: Sonny Thomas**_

_**Address: 14**__**th**__** Avenue, Building #2, Apartment 201.**_

_**D.O.B.: December 10**__**th**__**, 1955**_

_**City: Gotham Ci—**_

_A hand covers my mouth and hard item is pushed into the back of my head. "Don't scream. Get up slowly. Run and you die," the voice says. I stand to my feet and my knees hurt. They're covered in small cuts from leaning down on the ground. I try to turn around but the man grabs my arm roughly and brings me against him._

"_What is a pretty little girl like you doing out all alone huh?" he asks menacingly. I don't answer. He rummages in my pockets and takes out my I.D., credit card, and the money. "This is a lot of money for a tiny girl. You workin'?" I don't answer. He takes hold of my hair and rips it out form my head. I scream. "Shut up!"_

"_I won't tell, I swear! Please! Just don't hurt me!"_

"_Don't you know the game little slut?" he laughed evilly. "I'm never letting you go now. Never." He puts the gun to my side and wraps an arm around my neck. We begin walking on the trail. _

"_You see, I know who you are now. Your name is Gemmaline Dawes. You're sixteen and you seventeen next week." His nose nuzzles near my neck. _

"_Beautiful hair. I saw you at the train station earlier and the only thing I could think of was how tight your little ass is." He pushes his arousal into my backside. I fight the screams I have in my throat. _

"_And how firm your tits are." He grabs at my chest roughly. Not like how Bruce did it. _

"_And how tight and small and wet your pussy would be for me." He proceeds to grab my crotch and rubs. I stamp on his foot and reach for the gun. He pushes me to the ground and climbs on top of me. We both reach for the gun. I get to it first and backhand him in the face. He pulls my leg and drags me. I scream._

"_HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" I can't even recognize the sound of my voice. It sounds scratchy and nothing like it usually does. I'm rolled over and a fist hits me in the face. A pain shoots through my face. A broken nose. His hands wrap around my throat and the air leaves me. He slams my head against the concrete. I clutch at my head with my hand to absorb the shock as I anticipate the next blow. My hand is crushed under the force. My midriff is ripped._

"_HELP!" I scream. I kick him crotch and he hunches over. I move to the gun and hold it in my hands. He takes a knife out from his pocket. I aim the gun and shoot. The gun goes off and the bullet hits him in the shoulder. He still comes at me. I shoot the gun again. It hits in the leg. He falls to the ground. The sound of a police siren draws near. I turn around to see the man has already left. I get to my feet and run as fast as my legs will carry me._

**A/N: Please leave a review. Thank you to the people that left me messages of encouragement to update. I have not forgotten about this story. And I will not give up on it. Check out my other story in the Harry Potter universe.**

**Lots of love!**

_Someone Like You by Adele_

**I heard that you're settled down,****  
****That you found a girl and you're married now,****  
****I heard that your dreams came true,****  
****Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you,****  
****Old friend, why are you so shy?****  
****Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light,**

**I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,****  
****But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,****  
****I had hoped you'd see my face,****  
****And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,**

**Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,****  
****I wish nothing but the best for you, too,****  
****Don't forget me, I beg,****  
****I remember you said,****  
****"Sometimes it lasts in love,****  
****But sometimes it hurts instead,"****  
****Sometimes it lasts in love,****  
****But sometimes it hurts instead, yeah,**

**You know how the time flies,****  
****Only yesterday was the time of our lives,****  
****We were born and raised in a summer haze,****  
****Bound by the surprise of our glory days,**

**I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,****  
****But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,****  
****I had hoped you'd see my face,****  
****And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,**

**Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,****  
****I wish nothing but the best for you, too,****  
****Don't forget me, I beg,****  
****I remember you said,****  
****"Sometimes it lasts in love,****  
****But sometimes it hurts instead,"**

**Nothing compares,****  
****No worries or cares,****  
****Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,****  
****Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?**

**Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,****  
****I wish nothing but the best for you,****  
****Don't forget me, I beg,****  
****I remember you said,****  
****"Sometimes it lasts in love,****  
****But sometimes it hurts instead,"**

**Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,****  
****I wish nothing but the best for you, too,****  
****Don't forget me, I beg,****  
****I remember you said,****  
****"Sometimes it lasts in love,****  
****But sometimes it hurts instead,"****  
****Sometimes it lasts in love,****  
****But sometimes it hurts instead.**


End file.
